COLUMBIA  LIBRARIES  OFFSITE 

HEALTH  SCIENCES  STANDARD 


HX64103102 
QP355  .Scr72  Thinking,  feeling,  d 


RECAP 


Si 
emeu 


■'*•. 

Hi 

MV 

-    .,«^ 


ii*i: 


"^  ms^ 


QP3SS 


^' 


J^ 


Columbia  (HnitJem'tp 

int^eCttpofUmgork 

COLLEGE  OF 

PHYSICL\NS  AND  SURGEONS 

LIBRARY 


S^M^M^^ 


UK,  OhnKuco  n.  t-Lou^AW 

Neupoloqical  Institute 

tMTH  ST.  AND  FORTWASHiNOTOM  Ave. 

MIW  YOnif 


THE   CHAUTAUQUA  LITERARY   AND  SCIEN- 
TIFIC CIRCLE. 
3foun6e^  in  1878. 

This  volume  is  apart  of  the  course  of  home  reading  the 
essential  features  of  which  are: 

1.  A  Definite  Course  covering  four  years,  and  including 

History,  Literature,  Art,  /Science,  etc.    {A  reader  vaay 
enroll  for  only  one  year.)    No  examinations. 

2.  Specified  Volumes  approved  hy  the  coimselors.    Many  of 

the  books  are  specially  prepared  for  the  purpose. 

3.  Allotment  of  Time.     The  reading  is  apportioned  hy  the 

week  and  month. 

4.  A  Monthly  Magazine,  The  Chatjtauquan,  with  ad- 

ditio7ial  readings,  notes,  and  general  literature. 

5.  A  Membership  Book,  containing  suggestions  for  reading, 

review  outlines,  and  other  aid. 

6.  Individual  Readers,  no  matter  how  isolated,  may  have  all 

the  privileges. 

7.  Local  Circles  may  he  formed  hy  three  or  more  memhers 

for  mutual  aid  and  encouragement.  • 

8.  The  Time  Required  is  on  an  average  forty  minutes  a  day 

for  nine  months. 

9.  Certificates  are  granted  at  the  end  of  four  years  to  all 
tvho  complete  the  course. 

10.  Advanced  Courses,  for  continued  reading  in  special  lines 

— History,  Literature,  etc. 

11.  Pedagogical  Course /or  secular  teachers. 

12.  Young  People's  Reading  Course,  to  stimulate  the  reading 

of  good  literature  by  the  young. 
For  all  information  concerning  the  C.  L.  >S.  C.  address 

John  H.  Vincent,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 

THE  REQUIRED  LITERATURE  FOR  1895-6. 

The  Growth  of  the  American  Nation  (illus- 
trated). H.  P.  Judson,  Professor  of  Political  Sci- 
ence, University  of  Chicago $1.00 

The  Industrial  Evolution  of  the  United 
States  (illustrated).  Colonel  Carroll  D.  Wright, 
United  States  Commissioner  of  Labor     .        .        .      1.00 

Initial  Studies  in  American  Letters  (with 
portraits).  Henry  A.  Beers,  Professor  of  English 
Literature,  Yale  University 1.00 

Some  First  Steps  in  Human  Progress  (illus- 
trated). Frederick  Starr,  Professor  of  Anthropol- 
ogy, University  of  Chicago 1.00 

Thinking,  Feeling,  Doing  (illustrated).  E.  W. 
Scripture,  Director  of  the  Psychological  Laboratory, 
Yale  University  1.00 

The  Chautauquan  (12  nunibeis,  illustrated)         .      2.00 


Thei  Aaerican  fLAG 


AS     SEElN 
I-  BY    MOST     PEOPLE. 
II. -BY    RED-BLIND     PERSONS. 
Ill.-BY    GREEN-BLIND      PERSONS. 
IV  -  BY   VIOL  &T-  BLIND      PERSONS. 
V.-BY  TOTALLY    COLOR-BLIND     PERSONS 


Cbautauqua  IRcaDing  Circle  Xiterature 


THINKING,  FEELING, 


DOING 


BY 


E.    W.    SCRIPTURE,   PH.D.   (Leipzig) 


Director  of  the  Psychological  Laboratory  in  Yale  University. 


FLOOD  AND  VINCENT 
Cbe  (9rf)autauqua-(CEntur]a  "^itii 

MEADVILLE  PENNA 
150  FIFTH  AVE.  NEW  YORK 

1895 


Copyright,  1895 
By  E.  W.  Scripture 


The  Chautauqua- Century  Press,  Meadville,  Pa.,  U.  S.  A. 
Electrotyped,  Printed,  and  Bound  by  Flood  &  Vincent. 


PREFACE. 

A  FELLOW  PSYCHOLOGIST  Said  to  me  one  day,  "  Are  you  not 
afraid  tliat  all  this  accurate  and  fine  work  in  the  laboratory  will 
scare  away  the  public?"  This  book  is  the  answer.  You,  my 
dear  reader,  and  I,  have  no  time,  inclination,  or  means  to 
spend  years  in  studying  the  details  of  the  physical  laboratory 
or  the  observatory,  yet  we  both  enjoy  an  account  of  the  latest 
advances  of  electricity  by  a  specialist  in  physics  or  a  series  of 
new  photographs  of  the  moon  by  an  astronomer.  Life  is  so 
short  that  a  man  can  learn  only  one  thing  well,  whether  it  be 
the  best  method  of  dyeing  cambric  or  the  most  efficient  con- 
struction of  locomotives.  The  botanist  is  quite  at  home  with 
the  plants  but  is  ordinarily  as  ignorant  of  psychology  as  a 
stock-broker — if  not  more  so.  The  mathematician  learns 
some  section  of  mathematics,  but  would  be  just  as  awkward 
at  a  chemical  analysis  as  any  other  outsider.  We  all  belong 
to  the  great  public  except  in  regard  to  the  particular  handi- 
work, trade,  or  science  that  each  knows  something  about. 
And  yet  we  are  all  interested  in  hearing  about  a  new 
science.  There  is  nothing  too  good  for  the  public — for 
you  and  for  me  ;  the  finer  the  work,  the  more  novel  the  inven- 
tion, or  the  more  important  the  discovery,  the  greater  the  duty 
of  telling  it  to  the  public  in  language  that  can  be  understood. 

The  greatest  of  psychologists,  Wundt,  has  written  a  series  of 
lectures  on  psychology  (lately  translated  into  English),  but  the 
style  and  the  matter  are  fully  intelligible  only  to  those  who  are 
already  somewhat  familiar  with  the  science.  No  one  else  has 
produced  a  book  explaining  the  methods  and  results  of  the 
new  psychology.     This  is  my  reason  for  writing  one. 

This  is  the  first  book  on  thejiezu,  or  experimental,  psychology 
written  in  the  English  language.  That  it  has  been  written 
exp7^essly  for  the  people  will,  I  hope,  be  taken  as  evidence  of 
the  attitude  of  the  science  in  its  desire  to  serve  humanity. 

In  one  respect  I  have  departed  widely  from  the  usual  writers 


iv  Preface. 

on  psychology  ;  I  have  written  plain,  e very-day  English  and 
have  not  tried  to  clothe  my  ignorance  in  the  "multitudinous 
syllabifications  and  frangomaxillary  combinations  "  that  pass  as 
philosophic  English. 


CONTENTS. 

Chapter.  Page. 

I.  Watching    and    Testing  ;    or    Observation 

AND  Experiment 15 

II.     Ti:me  and  Action 27 

III.     Reaction-Toie 38 

W .     Thinking-Time 49 

\'.     Steadiness  and  Control 67 

VI.     Power  and  Will 79 

VII.     Attention 89 

ATII.     Touch : 103 

IX.     Hot  and  Cold 116 

X.     Smell  and  Taste 123 

XL     Hear'ing 133 

XII.     Color 153 

XIII.  Color  Sensitiveness 170 

XIV.  Seeing  with  One  Eye 180 

XA'.     Seeing  with  Two  Eyes 199 

XVI.     Feeling 214 

XVII.     Emotion 226 

XVIII.     Memory 239 

XIX.     Rhythmic  Action 253 

XX.     Suggestion  and  Expectation 264 

XXI.  Materialism  and  Spiritualism  in  Psy- 
chology    276 

XXII.     The  New  Psychology 282 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The  American  Flag Frontispiece. 

FIGURE.  PAGE. 

1.  An  Exercise  in  Observation 22 

2.  An  Exercise  in  Quick  Observation 24 

3.  Apparatus  for  Recording  Time 29 

4.  A  Specimen  Record 29 

5.  Position  Ready  for  a  Record 31 

6.  Measuring  the  Simultaneity  in  Actions  of  a  Piano- 

player  31 

7.  Result  of  the  Experiment 32 

8.  Influence  of  Fatigue  on  Tapping-time 35 

9.  Influence  of  Mental  Activity  on  Tapping-time  ...  35 

10.  Rapidity  of  Tapping  as  Dependent  on  Age 36 

11.  Fatigue  in  Tapping  as  Dependent  on  Age 36 

12.  A  Series  of  Reactions 38 

13.  Chain-reaction 39 

14.  In  the  Reaction-room 41 

15.  Reaction-key 43 

16.  Reaction  to  Sound 44 

17.  The  Pistol-key 45 

18.  The  Runner's  Key 45 

19.  Measuring  a  Runner's  Reaction-time 46 

20.  The  Touch-key  . 46 

21.  Reaction  to  Touch 47 

22.  A  Reaction  to  Cold 47 

23.  Reaction-time  Decreases  with  Age 48 

24.  The  Voice-key 53 

25.  Strictly  Forced  Associations 54 

26.  Measuring  Mental  and  Muscular  Time  in  Fencing  .  56 

27.  Apparatus  for  Measuring  Rapidity  of  Thought  and 

Action 58 

28.  Measuring  how  Rapidly  a  Pugilist  Thinks  and  Acts  .  59 

29.  Measuring  how  Fast  a  Dog  Thinks 60 

vii 


viii  List  of  Illustrations. 


FIGURE.  PAGE. 

30.  Time  of  Thought  in  School  Children .  61 

31.  Taking  a  Record  of  Steadiness 67 

32.  Arrangement  of  Capsules  for  Steadiness  under  Guid- 

ance of  the  Eye .       68 

33.  A  Record  of  Steadiness 69 

34.  Recording  a  Sportsman's  Unsteadiness 69 

35.  Steadiness  in  Standing 70 

36.  Studying  the  Trembling  of  the  Hand 71 

37.  Studying  the  Steadiness  of  the  Tongue 71 

38.  Steadiness-gauge 74 

39.  Measuring  Steadiness  and  Attention 75 

40.  Result  of  Educating  Attention  to  the  Arm 76 

41.  Testing  Steadiness  in  Singing 77 

42.  Singing  the  Octave 78 

43.  Singing  the  Duodecime ' 78 

44.  Singing  the  Fifth *  78 

45.  Singing  the  Fourth 78 

46.  Singing  the  Third 78 

47.  Spring  Dynamometer 79 

48.  Weight-judgments  in  School  Children 81 

49.  Influence  of  Pitch  on  the  Power  of  Grasp 86* 

50.  Dynamograph 86 

51.  Grip  of  the  Hand  by  an  Hysterical  Person 87 

52.  Successive  Squeezes  during  Ringing  of  a  Gong  and 

during  Silence 87 

53.  Strongest  Contractions  while  Looking  at  Different 

Colors 88 

54.  Influence  of  Musk 88 

55.  Focus  and  Field  of  Attention no 

56.  Fatiguing  Attention  Preparatory  to  Hypnotism  ...  102 

57.  Touch-weights  for  Finding  the  Threshold 103 

58.  Finding  the  Threshold  for  the  Palm  of  the  Hand  .    .  104 

59.  An  Experiment  in  Tickling jqc 

60.  Finding  the  Least  Noticeable  Change  in  Pressure  .    .  106 

61.  Simple  ^sthesiometer jjq 

62.  The   Complete  ^sthesiometer uj 

63.  Testing  a  Child's  Idea  of  Skin-space 112 

64.  Aristotle's  Ilhision jj- 

65.  Lip  Ilhision jj  . 


List  of  Illustrations.  ix 

FIGURE.  PAGE. 

66.  Space  as  Estimated  by  a  Tooth  under  Treatment  .    .  114 

67.  A  Cold-spot  Map 117 

68.  A  Hot-spot  Map 117 

69.  Finding  the  Hot  and  Cold  Spots 118 

70.  Boiling  a  Frog  without  His  Knowing  it 121 

71.  Olfactometer,   or  Smell-measurer 124 

72.  Alternation  of  Odors 127 

73.  Giant  Fork  for  Finding  the  Lowest  Audible  Tone  .  134 

74.  Whistle  for  Determining  the  Highest  Audible  Tone  .  135 

75.  The   Highest  Audible  Tone  as   Dependent  on  In- 

tensity    138 

76.  Forks  of   Adjustable   Pitch  for  Finding   the    Least 

Noticeable  Difference 139 

77.  The  Tone-tester 141 

78.  Error  in  Hearing  Decreases  with  Age 142 

79.  Apparatus  for  Finding  the  Middle  Tone 145 

80.  Finding  the  Threshold  of  Intensity  for  Hearing  .    .  147 

81.  Method  of  Indicating  Intensity  in  Notes 150 

82.  Series  of  Notes  according  to   Duration 151 

83.  The  Color-top 154 

84.  The  Color-wheel 154 

85.  Putting  Two  Disks  Together 155 

86.  Two  Disks  with  Scale 155 

87.  Diagrammatic  Arrangement  of  the  Colors 157 

88.  The  Color-cone 158 

89.  The  Grays 159 

90.  Spectrum  from  a  Grating 160 

91.  The  Color-triangle 166 

92.  Mixing  Yellow  and  Blue '*....  168 

93.  Children  have   Finer  Eyes  for  Color  as  they  Grow 

Older 171 

94.  Disk  to  Illustrate  the  Effect  of  Contrast 172 

95.  Getting  the  Gray  Equation 173 

96.  Three-color  Persons 173 

97.  Red-blind  Persons 174 

98.  Green-blind  Persons 174 

99.  One-color  Persons 175 

100.  Perimeter,  for  Measuring  the  Field  of  Vision  ....  181 

loi.  Perimeter  Chart  for  Colors 182 


X  List  of  Illustrations. 

FIGURE.  PAGE. 

102.  Finding  the  Blind-Spot 183 

103.  Putting  a  White  Circle  on  the  Blind-Spot 184 

104.  The  Circle  is  Replaced  by  the  Colors 184 

105.  What  will  happen  now? 185 

106.  The  Result 185 

107.  A  Puzzler  for  the  Blind-Spot 185 

108.  The  Blind-Spot  Pretends  to  Read  . 186 

109.  Test  for  Eye-Steadiness 186 

no.  What  the  Eye  Considers  to  be  Equal  Distances  .    .    187 

111.  A  Misplaced  Line 187 

112.  Illusion  of  the  Interrupted  Distance 188 

113.  Illusion  of  Filled  Space 188 

114.  A  Misplaced  Line 188 

115.  A  Misplaced  Line 189 

116.  The  Interrupted  Distance 189 

117.  The  Distorted  Squares §89 

118.  A  Misplaced  Line 189 

119.  The  Enlarged  Angle 190 

120.  Displacement  by  Inclined  Lines 190 

121.  A  Tipped  Line 190 

122.  Breaking  Parallel  Lines 190 

123.  Tipping  Parallel  Lines 191 

124.  Bending  Straight  Lines 191 

125.  Changing  the  Length  of  a  Line  by  Different  Cross- 

lines  192 

126.  Illusion  of  the  Crinoline 192 

127.  We  Estimate  by  Areas 192 

128.  Why  the  Bicycle  Girl  Appears  so  Short 193 

129.  The  Attracted  Dots 194 

130.  An  Overhanging  Cornice,  or  a  Stairway? 194 

131.  Illusion  of  the  Yeomen  of  the  Guard 195 

132.  Shape  of  the  Sky 196 

133.  The  Moon  Illusion 156 

134.  Book  Seen  with  the  Right  Eye 199 

135.  Book  Seen  with  the  Left  Eye 199 

136.  The  Real  Book •.    .    200 

137.  Book  as  Actually  Seen 200 

138.  Put  the  Bird  in  the  Cage  by  Binocular  Vision  ...    201 

139.  The  Prism  Stereoscope 201 


List  of  Illustrations.  xi 

FIGURE.  PAGE. 

140.  The  Book  Stereoscope 202 

141.  Action  of  the  Book  Stereoscope 203 

142.  Two  Like  Pictures 203 

143.  Unlike  Pictures  to  be  Combined 204 

144.  Prometheus 204 

145.  The  Cross 204 

146.  Crossed  Disparity 205 

147.  Uncrossed  Disparity 205 

148.  What  we  would  Expect  when  Looking  at  the  Farther  . 

End 206 

149.  What  we  would  Expect  when  Looking  at  the  Nearer 

End 206 

150.  What  we  would  Expect  when  Looking  at  the  Middle  206 

151.  What  we  Actually  See 206 

152.  The  Slant  Line 207 

153.  The  Pyramidal  Box 207 

154.  The  Funnels 208 

155.  The  Crystals 208 

156.  The  Multiple  Star 209 

157.  The  Complicated  Pyramids 209 

158.  The  Thread  Figure 210 

159.  Binocular  Strife 211 

160.  Binocular  Luster 211 

161.  A  Binocular  Illustration  to  Milton's  Paradise  Lost.  212 

162.  Single  Symmetry,  Horizontal 220 

163.  Single  Symmetry,  Vertical 220 

164.  Double  Symmetry 220 

165.  Threefold  Symmetry 220 

166.  Fourfold  Symmetry 221 

167.  Eightfold  Symmetry 221 

168.  Perfect,  but  Simple,  Symmetry  in  All  Directions  .    .  221 

169.  Combinations  of  Symmetry 222 

170.  Law  of  Pleasing  Relations  of  the  Dimensions  of  a 

Rectangle 222 

171.  Change  of  Pulse  as  a  Result  of  Pleasure 223 

172.  Change  of  Pulse  as  a  Result  of  Anger 224 

173.  Change  of  Pulse  as  a  Result  of  Fright 225 

174.  Sorrow 228 

175-  Joy 229 


xii  List  of  Illustrations. 

FIGURE.  PAGE. 

176.  Anger 230 

177.  Fright 234 

178.  Very  Doubtful 237 

179.  A  Leaf  from  Daisy's  Copy-book 241 

180.  Symmetrical  and  Direct  Cross-memory 242 

181.  Measurements   on   Symmetrical   and   Direct  Cross- 

memory  243 

182.  Law  of  Forgetting  Tones 244 

I  S3.     Use  of  the  Pun  for  IVIemory  Purposes 248 

184.  Dependence  of  Time-memory  on  Age 251 

185.  The  Pneumatic  Shoe 253 

186.  Walking    with    Pneumatic    Shoes    and     Recording 

Drum 254 

187.  Graphic  Records  of  Walking  and  Running  ....    254 

188.  The  Electric  Shoe 255 

189.  Regular  Retarded  Rhythm '  256 

190.  Irregular  Retarded  Rhythm 257 

191.  Regular  Accelerated  Rhythm 257 

192.  Irregular  Accurate  Rhythm 257 

193.  Regular  Accurate  Rhythm 257 

194.  The  Electric  Baton 259 

195.  Taking  an  Orchestra  Leader's  Record 260 

196.  Taking  a  Record  with  Electric  Dumb  Bells  ....    262 

197.  Producing  an  Hallucination  of  Warmth 266 

198.  Blocks  for  Measuring  the  Effect  of  a  Suggestion  of 

Size 266 

199.  Dependence  of  the  Effect  of  Suggestion  on  Age  and 

Sex 268 

200.  Actual  Positions  of  the  Star  at  the  Pendulum-beats  273 

201.  Supposed  Positions  with  Visual  Attention 274 

202.  Supposed  Positions  with  Auditory  Attention  ....    274 

203.  Johann  Friedrich  Herbart 284 

204.  Gustav  Theodor  Fechner 287 

205.  Hermann  von  Helmholtz 288 

206.  Wilhelm  Wundt 289 

207.  Lecture-rooni  in  the  Yale  Laboratory 291 

208.  Apparatus-room   and    Switchboard-hall  in  the  Yale 

Laboratory 292 

209.  W'orkshop  in  the  Yale  Laboratory 294 


m 
The  required  hooks  of  the  C.  L.  S.  C,  are  recommended  by  a 

Council  of  six.      It  m,ust^   however^  be  understood  that 

recommendation  does  not  involve  an  ajjproval  by   the 

Council^  or  by  any  member  of  it^  of  every  prinGix>le  or 

doctrine  contained  in  the  booh  recommended. 


THINKING,   FEELING,   DOING. 


CHAPTER  I. 

WATCHING     AND     TESTING  ;      OR     OBSERVATION     AND 
EXPERIMENT. 

Eyes   and  No-Eyes   journeyed  together.      No-Eyes  The  method  of 
saw  only  what  thrust  itself  upon  him  ;  Eyes  was  on  the  acquiring 

-^  I  ^        J  knowledge. 

watch   for   everything.       Eyes   used    the  fu7idaniental 
method  of  all  kjiowledge — obse7''vatio7i,  or  watching. 

This  is  the  first  thing  to  be  learned — the  art  of  watch- 
ing. Most  of  us  went  to  school  before  this  art  was  cul- 
tivated, and,  alas  !  most  of  the  children  still  go  to 
schools  of  the  same  kind.  There  are  proper  ways  of 
learning  to  watch,  but  the  usual  object  lessons  in  school 
result  in  just  the  opposite.  We,  however,  cannot  go  a 
step  further  till  we  have  learned  how  to  watch. 

Do  you  wish  to  know  just  how  your  children  play  Thefunda- 
together  ?     Watch  them,  but  watch  them  so  that  they  do   watching. 
not  feel  your  presence. 

Every  public  man  wears  a  mask,  because  he  is  watched. 
If  we  wish  to  know  just  what  khid  of  a  man  he  is,  we 
must  watch  him  in  unsuspected  moments.  A  great  deal 
of  ridicule  has  been  cast  on  the  reporters  and  enthusiasts 
who  rush  into  the  room  that  has  just  been  occupied 
by  a  great  man  in  order  to  see  how  he  has  left  the  chairs, 
how  he  has  treated  the  curtains,  how  much  soap  he  has 
used,  or  how  many  towels  he  has  soiled  ;  or  who  interview 
the  cashier  to  find  out  just  how  many  cocktails  he  has  con- 

15 


i6 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


The  error  of 
prejudice. 


Its  presence 
everywhere. 


sumed.  In  one  respect  these  men  are  quite  in  the  right. 
They  say  to  themselves,  ' '  The  pubHc  is  interested  in 
knowing  just  what  the  man  really  is  when  he  has  his 
mask  off,  and  that  is  only  when  he  is  alone."  The 
man  who  thoughtlessly  leaves  behind  a  soiled  deck  of 
cards,  a  whisky  bottle,  and  the  odor  of  bad  cigars  must 
be  quite  a  different  fellow  from  one  who  has  had  an 
artistic  dinner  and  a  copy  of  the  latest  novel,  or  one  who 
has  left  his  Bible  and  his  spectacles  on  the  table. 

If  there  is  anything  wrong  about  this,  it  is  not  the 
method ;  just  this  method  is  to  be  used  in  acquiring  all 
knowledge.  In  fact,  I  shall  want  you  to  watch  the 
processes  of  thinking,  feeling,  and  doing,  in  exactly  the 
same  fashion.  Lie  in  w^ait,  concealed,  catch  your 
' '  process  ' '  going  on  in  a  perfectly  natural  way.  More- 
over, strange  as  it  may  seem,  this  is  the  only  way,  the 
fundamental  rule  being  that  the  act  of  watching  must 
not  change  the pei^son  or  thing  watched. 

It  is  not  sufficient  to  know  this  rule  ;  we  must  be  con- 
stantly on  guard  against  several  very  dangerous  sources 
of  error.  The  first  is  the  error  of  prejudice.  Grand- 
mother M.  has  used  Dr.  Swindle's  liver  pills  all  her  life 
long.  She  always  believed  they  would  do  her  good  ; 
she  remembers  the  dozen  times  she  happened  to  feel  bet- 
ter after  taking  them  and  forgets  the  hundreds  of  times 
she  did  not.  Therefore  she  has  facts — incontestable 
facts — to  prove  the  goodness  of  the  pills.  Possibly  her 
picture  appears  in  the  newspaper  with  an  enthusiastic 
testimonial.  It  is  useless  to  attempt  to  convince  her 
that  her  method  of  observation  has  been  vitiated  by  the 
error  of  prejudice. 

Of  course,  this  error  is  very  plain  in  other  people,  but 
you,  my  dear  reader,  always  judge  fairly.      Let  me  whis- 


Watching  and  Testing.  17 

per  in  your  ear:  Have  you  not  some  pet  fad  on  which  you 
are  sure  you  are  right  and  all  the  rest  of  the  town  are 
wrong  ?  are  you  not  quite  sure  that  there  is  only  one  side 
to  the  tariff  question?  are  you  not  astounded  at  the  fact 
that  some  people  find  a  good  side  to  a  man  you  know — 
yes,  know — to  be  utterly  bad  ?  Don' t  be  ashamed  to  con- 
fess. The  great  scientist  Faraday  did.  "It  is  my  firm  ^o^nfegJon^ 
opinion  that  no  man  can  examine  himself  in  the  most  com- 
mon things  having  any  reference  to  him  personally  or  to 
any  person,  thought,  or  matter  related  to  him  without  soon 
being  made  aware  of  the  temptation  to  disbelieve  con- 
trary facts  and  the  difficulty  of  opposing  it.  I  could  give 
you  many  illustrations  personal  to  myself  about  atmos- 
pheric magnetism,  lines  of  force,  attraction,  repulsion, 
etc. ' '  If  Faraday  could  go  wrong  in  this  way,  how 
careful  must  we  be  in  the  observations  we  shall  make,  in 
the  experiments  we  are  about  to  perform. 

Another  very  dangerous  error  is  that  of  unconscious  Unconscious 

,  ,., .  additions. 

additions. 

Play  the  game  of  twenty  questions.  The  company 
choose  some  object  and  some  one  who  does  not  know 
what  has  been  chosen  has  to  guess  it  from  the  answers 
''Yes"  or  "  No"  to  his  questions.  Stop  him  when  he 
is  half  through  and  ask  him  to  tell  you  what  he  has  con- 
cluded from  the  different  answers.  You  will  find  that  he 
adds  far  more  than  is  justified  by  the  answer  to  each 
question.  For  example,  something  chosen  is  neither 
animal  nor  mineral ;  it  is,  therefore,  so  the  questioner 
thinks,  "a'*  vegetable.  But  suppose  you  had  chosen 
"buckwheat  cakes"? 

This  error  is  one  of  the  most  troublesome  ones  in  read- 
ing printer's  proof;  letters  and  words  that  have  been 
omitted  by  the  compositor  are  unconsciously  supplied  bv 


i8 


Thmkifig,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Examples  of 
unconscious  ad- 
ditions in 
animal  psy- 
chology. 


"  Funereal 
habits  "  of  ants. 


the  reader.  An  author,  on  account  of  his  interest,  is 
more  hable  to  this  error  than  any  one  else  ;  he  is  generally 
a  very  unreliable  proof-reader. 

A  familiar  case  of  this  error  is  found  in  the  story  of  the 
ten  white  crows — which  I  will  leave  the  reader  to  hunt  up 
in  his  old  school  books. 

This  source  of  error,  as  Wundt  has  pointed  out,  ren- 
ders almost  absolutely  worthless  an  enormous  amount  of 
painstaking  work  in  animal  psychology.  The  facts  are 
observed  and  collected  with  untiring  diligence,  but  the 
critical  study  of  the  results  is  generally  entirely  lacking. 

Take,  for  example,  a  case  reported  by  Romanes  in  his 
volume  on  animal  intelligence. 

An  English  clergyman  writes  concerning  the  ' '  fuftereal 
habits"  of  ants:  "I  have  noticed  in  one  of  my  formi- 
caria  a  subterranean  cemetery,  where  I  have  seen  some 
ants  burying  their  dead  by  placing  earth  above  them. 
One  ant  was  evidently  much  affected,  and  tried  to  ex- 
hume the  bodies;  but  the  united  exertions  of  the  yellow 
sextons  were  more  than  sufhcient  to  neutralize  the  effort 
of  the  disconsolate  mourner. ' ' 

Wundt  asks,  How  much  is  fact,  and  how  much  imagi- 
nation? It  is  a  fact  that  the  ants  carry  out  of  the  nest, 
deposit  near  by,  and  cover  up  dead  bodies,  just  as  they 
do  anything  else  that  is  in  their  way.  They  can  then 
pass  to  and  fro  over  them  without  hindrance.  In  the  ob- 
served case  they  were  evidently  interrupted  in  this  occu- 
pation by  another  ant,  and  resisted  its  interference.  The 
cemetery,  the  sextons,  the  feelings  of  the  disconsolate 
mourner,  which  impelled  her  to  exhume  the  body  of  the 
departed — all  this  is  a  fiction  of  the  sympathetic  imagi- 
nation of  the  observer. 

Another  friend  of  ants  ofives  this  account  :    "At  one 


Watching  and  Testing.  19 


formicary  half  a  dozen  or  more  younsf  queens  were  out  ^^ 

■'  ^  y  25    T.  The  case  of  the 

at  the  same  time.     They  would  climb  up  a  larsfe  pebble   yoH"s  am- 

•'  ^  JT  o       r  princesses. 

near  the  gate,  face  the  wind,  and  assume  a  rampant  pos- 
ture. Several  having  ascended  the  stone  at  one  time, 
there  ensued  a  little  playful  passage-at-arms  as  to  posi- 
tion. They  nipped  each  other  gently  with  the  man- 
dibles, and  chased  one  another  from  favorite  spots. 
They,  however,  never  nipped  the  workers.  These  latter 
evidently  kept  a  watch  upon  the  sportive  princesses,  oc- 
casionally saluted  them  with  their  antennae  in  the  usual 
way,  or  touched  them  at  the  abdomen,  but  apparently 
allowed  them  full  liberty  of  action." 

The  correctness  of  this  observation,  says  Wundt,  need  wundt's 
not  be  questioned.  Why  should  not'a  number  of  young  ^^"^^''^^• 
queens  have  been  crowded  together  upon  a  pebble,  and 
some  workers  have  been  with  them,  and  occasionally 
touched  them  with  their  antennae,  as  ants  do  everywhere  ? 
But  that  they  ' '  sported ' '  and  played,  that  the  others 
"kept  watch  upon  them"  like  chaperones,  and  now  and 
again  did  homage  to  them  by  "saluting" — all  this  is  due 
to  the  imagination  of  the  observer.  He  would  hardly 
have  told  the  story  in  this  way  had  not  the  suggesti\'e 
name  "queen"  been  introduced  for  the  mature  female 
insects.  If  the  adults  are  "queens,"  the  young  ones 
must,  of  course,  be  "princesses"  to  the  other  ants  as 
well  as  in  the  imagination  of  the  observer.  And  since  no 
princess  ever  went  out  without  an  attendant  or  a  chap- 
erone,  the  rest  of  the  tale  follows  as  a  matter  of  course. 
If,  instead  of  the  name  "queen,  "  the  mature  female  ant 
had  been  called  by  the  still  better  term  "mother,"  we 
would  have  had  an  entirely  different  story  from  the  same 
facts.      I  leave  it  to  my  readers  to  tell  it. 

Watch  Fido,  the  pet  dog,  at  play.      Let  your  friend 


20 


Thiyiking^   Feelings   Doing. 


An  experiment 
for  the  reader. 


Need  of 
experiment. 


Personal 
application. 


tell  the  Story  of  what  he  was  doing  ;  then  tell  it  yourself. 
Notice  how  you  both  add  your  own  imaginations  to  the 
facts.  The  story  as  told  by  a  sharp  business  man,  ac- 
customed to  beware  of  imagination,  will  be  quite  different 
from  that  of  a  lady  novel-reader  steeped  in  romance. 

How  easy  it  is  to  misinterpret  an  observation  if  the 
very  greatest  care  is  not  taken  in  recording  it,  and  if  it  is 
impossible  to  vary  the  circumstances  by  experiment  and 
thus  to  obtain  accurate  knowledge  of  the  details,  is  well 
shown  by  the  following  facts. 

Pierre  Huber,  one  of  the  most  reliable  students  of  the 
habits  of  ants,  stated  that  he  had  assured  himself  that  an 
ant,  if  taken  from  the  nest  and  returned  after  an  interval 
of  four  months,  was  recognized  by  its  former  companiI)ns  ; 
for  they  received  it  in  a  friendly  manner,  while  members 
of  a  different  nest,  even  though  they  belonged  to  the 
same  species,  were  driven  away.  The  correctness  of  the 
observation  cannot  be  doubted  ;  it  has  also  been  con- 
firmed by  Lubbock.  Lubbock,  however,  made  the  mat- 
ter a  subject  of  experiment.  He  took  ant  larvae  from 
the  nest  and  did  not  put  them  back  till  they  were  fully 
developed.  They,  too,  were  received  in  a  friendly  man- 
ner, although  there  could  be  no  question  of  resemblance 
between  the  larva  and  the  grown  ant.  There  must, 
therefore,  be  some  characteristic  peculiar  to  all  members 
of  a  particular  nest,  possibly  a  specific  odor,  which  de- 
termines the  "friendliness"  of  the  ants. 

Every  one  of  my  readers  is  an  observer  in  a  particular 
domain  of  mental  life ;  and,  I  fear,  commits  this  error 
daily. 

A  pack  of  noisy  boys  is  at  play  on  the  street.  Ask  a 
crusty  old  bachelor  to  tell  what  they  are  doing.  Then 
ask   "mother,"   who  has  had  boys  of  her  own,  to  tell 


IVatchvig  and   Testing.  21 

the  story.  You  will  be  surprised  to  learn  from  the  for- 
mer what  villains  those  boys  show  themselves  to  be  by 
their  acts,  whereas  "  mother"  will  point  out  to  you  how 
every  movement  of  the  boys  proves  them  manly  fel- 
lows. 

By  the  way,  I  happen  to  notice  that  the  expression  by 
which  I  have  introduced  the  boys  to  my  readers  contains 
such  an  error  of  prejudice  that  they  can  readily  guess  the 
sort  of  description  I  would  write.  Suppose  I  said  and  felt, 
*  'A  group  of  merry  boys ' '  ;  would  not  my  account  of 
the  very  same  facts  be  different  ? 

I  shall  warn  you  ag-alnst  onh^  one  error  more,  that  of  ,     . 

-'  ^  -^  ^  '  Another  source 

untrustworthiness  of  the  senses,  as  it  is  called.  Sir  of  error. 
Walter  Raleigh  was  one  day  sitting  at  a  window  when 
he  observed  a  man  come  into  the  courtyard  and  go  up 
to  another  standing  by  the  door.  After  a  few  words  the 
latter  drew  his  sword,  they  fell  to  fighting,  and  the  first 
comer  was  finally  wounded  and  carried  out.  A  person 
who  had  been  standing  close  beside  the  door  afterwards 
flatly  contradicted  the  observation  of  Sir  Walter,  saying 
that  the  man  at  the  door  had  not  been  the  first  to  draw 
his  sword  and  that  it  was  not  the  first  comer  who  was 
wounded  and  carried  out.  Note  the  fiat  contradictions 
of  eye  witnesses  in  the  next  trial  you  read  about. 

Let  us  now  take  a  few  lessons  in  observing.  Lessons  in 

I.   On  page  22  of  this  book — do  not  turn  to  it  till  I  observing. 
have  told  you  what  to  do — you  will  find  a  figure.    Write 
what  you  see.      I  am  not  going  to  tell  you  another  thing 
about  it ;  not  even  what  the  exercise  is  for.     Show  the 

Exercise  !• 

flgure  to  other  people  with  the  same  directions.  Com- 
pare your  result  with  theirs.  Just  as  you  progress  in 
understanding  what  the  exercise  is  for,  just  so  far  will 
you  have  profited  by  it. 


Exercise  II. 


22 


Thinking,   Feelings   Doing. 


2.  On  the  second  page  from  this  you  will  find  a  num- 
ber of  letters  printed  in  a  square.  Turn  over  the  page  for 
just  an  instant  and  then  close  the  book.  What  letters 
can  you  remember  ?  You  can  readily  prepare  a  set  of 
cards  with  various  combinations  of  letters  and  can  train 
your  friends  in  observing.  Or  you  can  use  cut  letters, 
such  as  go  under  the  name  of  letter-tablets.  Make  ir- 
regular combinations  on  the  table   behind   a   screen  of 


* 


Fig.  I.    An  Exercise  in  Observation. 


Exercise  III. 


The 

magician's 

training. 


some  kind,  e.  g.,  a  book  ;  snatch  the  book  away  for  an 
instant,  and  have  the  onlookers  write  down  the  ones 
they  saw.  Then  form  words  instead  of  letters.  You 
will  notice  that  people  can  catch  almost  as  many  words 
as  they  can  catch  disconnected  letters.  Or  you  can 
write  on  a  slate  and  turn  it  over  for  an  instant.  Or  you 
can  use  dominoes. .  The  Italian  game  of  ' '  morra ' '  is  for 
this  very  purpose.  One  person  holds  up  a  number  of 
fingers  suddenly  for  an  instant ;  the  other  guesses  how 
many  were  shown. 

3.  Place  a  number  of  objects  on  a  table  in  the  next 
room.  Let  each  person  go  in  and  walk  once  around 
the  table  during  the  time  you  count  twenty.  Coming 
out  he  is  to  write  down  a  list  of  what  he  saw. 

At  first  you  can  catch  almost  nothing  in  these  last  two 
exercises.  It  is  very  important  to  continue  the  practice  ; 
you  cannot  go  too  far.  You  will  be  encouraged  by 
knowing  that  the  magician  Robert- Houdin  began  in  the 
same  way.  He  and  his  son  would  pass  rapidly  by  a 
shop-window  and  cast  an  attentive  glance  at  it.      A  few 


Watching  and   Testing.  23 

steps  further  they  noted  down  on  paper  the  objects  they 
had  caught.  The  son  could  soon  write  down  forty  ob- 
jects. This  training  was  kept  up  till  an  astounding  abil- 
ity was  acquired.  On  the  occasion  of  one  performance 
the  son  gave  the  titles  of  more  than  a  dozen  books  in 
another  room,  with  the  order  of  arrangement  on  their 
shelves.  He  had  seen  them  in  a  single  glance  as  he 
passed  rapidly  through  the  library. 

There  are  many  women  who  have  unintentionally  edu- 
cated themselves  to  a  high  degree  of  ability  in  quick  ob-   women  as 
servation.      It  can  be  safely  asserted  of  many  a  one  of 
them  that,  seeing  another  woman  pass  by  in  a  carriage 
at   full    speed,    she  will  have  had   time  to  analyze  her 
toilet  from  her  bonnet  to  her  shoes,  and  be  able  to  de- 
scribe not  only  the  fashion  and  quality  of  the  stuifs,   but 
also  say  if  the  lace  be  real  or  only  machine  made.      It  is 
said  that,  when  passing  on  the  street,  eight  women  out  of 
ten  will  turn  around  to  see  what  the  other  one  wears.     I 
have  often  wondered  at  the  two  who  did  not  turn  around, 
but  the  reason  is  clear — they  did  not  need  to. 

Innumerable  exercises  in  quick  and  accurate  observa- 

1  .     .         ,.  .  Quick  observa- 

tion   can    be   used  m  direct  assistance    to   the    regular  tioninthe 

work  of  the  schoolroom.  The  spelling  of  words  can  be 
learned  by  quick  glances  ;  the  outline  and  parts  of  a 
country  can  be  taught  in  greater  and  greater  detail  by 
successive  quick  exercises  ;  a  problem  in  mental  arith- 
metic is  to  be  grasped  with  only  a  momentary  presenta- 
tion of  it  ;  an  object  is  to  be  drawn  from  an  instantaneous 
ghmpse  ;  etc. ,  etc.  Indeed,  there  is  not  a  single  school 
exercise  that  cannot  be  so  taught  as  to  train  this  ability. 
In  fact,  the  children  are  naturally  quicker  than  we  sup- 
pose them  to  be  ;  it  is  often  the  case  that  lessons  of  in- 
terest  to    the    child   are    carefully  presented    in    such  a 


The  arm-chair 
psychology. 


24 


Thinkiyig,   Feeli7ig,   Doing. 


way  as  to  actually  teach  him  to  be  slow  instead  of  quick. 

But  watching  is  not  sufficient  for  science.  ' '  Learn  to 
labor  and  to  wait. ' '  For  several  thousand  years  psy- 
chologists have  been  waiting  and  watching  ;  it  never  oc- 
curred to  them  to  labor  also.  Sitting  at  home  in  the  arm 
chair  is  very  pleasant  but  it  is  not  the  way  to  do  business, 
and  consequently  psychology  has  been  going  backward. 

What  is  the  reason  that  we  to-day  do  not  know  how  to 
train  a  child' s  mind  properly  ?  what  is  the  reason  that 


M 


B 


X 


O 


Q         R         A         G 


C         W 


T 


E 


D 


L 


Fig.  2.     An  Exercise  in  Quick  Observation. 


The  advent  of 
experiment. 


philology  is  nothing  more  than  a  history  of  word-changes 
without  an  attempt  to  explain  the  causes  ?  what  is  the 
reason  that  ethics  is  not  a  science  but  a  conglomeration 
of  maxims  ?  what  is  the  reason — but,  stop,  I  will  express 
it  all  by  asking.  What  is  the  reason  that  the  mental 
sciences  to-day  are  two  hundred  years  behind  the  physi- 
cal sciences  ?  The  answer  is  sharp  and  decisive  :  Be- 
cause the  science  of  mind  itself,  psychology,  owing  to 
the  late  introduction  of  experiment,  has  not  achieved 
the  development  that  it  should  have  done. 

It.  is  to  the  introduction  of  experiment  that  we  owe  our 
electric  cars  and  lights,   our  bridges  and  tall  buildings, 


IVatc/mig  and  Testing.  25 

our  steam-power  and  factories,  in  fact,  every  particle  of 
our  modern  civilization  that  depends  on  material  goods. 
It  is  to  the  lack  of  experiment  that  we  must  attribute  the 
medieval  condition  of  the  mental  sciences. 

In  ordinary  observation  we  wait  for  things  to  happen   contrast 
in  one  way  or  another  ;  possibly  they  never  happen  in   vaUon^and^^^^' 
just  the  circumstances  most  favorable  for  studying  them,    experiment. 
In  an  experiment  we  arrange  the  circumstances  so  that 
the  thing  will  happen  as  we  wish.      How  good  is  the 
memory  of  a  certain  child  ?     We  might  wait  a  long  time 
before  he  happened  to  perform  some  memory  exercise 
that  would  exactly  answer  the  question.      Instead  of  this 
we  experiment  on  him  by  giving  him  lines  of  figures,  sets 
of  syllables,  words,  etc. ,  till  we  know  in  just  what  con- 
dition his  memory  is.      Galilei  would  jiever  have  discov- 
ered the  law  of  falling  bodies  if  he  had  not  made  the  ex- 
periment. 

Vaiy  only  one  circiunstance  at  a  time.  If  you  wish  to 
find  how  strong  a  child's  memory  is  at  different  times  of  ^[lentlTifwof 
the  day,  you  should  not  make  the  morning  test  with  experiment. 
words  and  the  next  with  figures.  There  might  be  a  dif- 
ference due  to  the  change  from  words  to  figures,  and  you 
would  suppose  this  difference  to  be  due  to  the  time  of 
day. 

Experiments  can  be  divided  into  three  grades,  (i) 
Tests.  The  test  is  the  simplest  form  and  is  an  answer  to  Grades  of 
the  question,  Is  something  so  or  not  so  ?  The  usual  test  ^xpenmen  . 
on  hypnotized  persons  is  pricking  them  with  a  pin  to  see 
whether  they  feel  or  do  not ;  by  flashing  a  light  we  de- 
termine whether  a  person  is  blind  or  not.  (2)  Qualitative 
experiments.  By  these  we  aim  to  answer  the  question. 
What?  In  experiments  on  the  emotions  we  ask  what 
bodily  processes  change  with  them.      Given  a  person  who 


26  Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


can  see  ;  to  determine  what  he  can  see  we  make  experi- 
ments for  color-bHndness.  (3)  Quantitative  experiTnents. 
How  much  ?  is  the  question  we  ask  in  this  case.  How 
small  a  difference  can  you  detect?  how  many  syllables 
can  you  remember?  how  sharp  is  your  vision?  This  is 
the  highest  class  of  experiments  ;  they  are  scientific  ex- 
periments in  the  full  sense  of  the  word. 

The  objection  is  sometimes  made  that  experiments  in 
thinking,  feeling,  etc. ,  are  physical  and  not  mental.  This 
confuses  the  means  with  the  thing,  the  tools  with  the 
work  done.  The  apparatus  is  physical,  but  your  ac- 
curacy of  judgment,  your  suggestibility,  your  power  of 
will,  are  mental. 

It  is  perhaps  advisable  here  to  warn  my  readers 'against 
Quack  the  unjustifiable  application  of  the  term  "experiment"  to 

hypnotic  exhibitions,  to  thought-transference  follies,  and 
to  the  so-called  psychical  research  experiments.  These 
amusements  are  as  unrelated  to  scientific  experiments  as 
clairvoyant  healing  6r  faith-cure  to  the  science  of  medi- 
cine. 


CHAPTER  II. 

TIME    AND    ACTION. 

What  is  the  difference  between  a  bicycle  rider  and  a 
locomotive  ?  The  human  body  closely  resembles  a  com-  ^  conundrum. 
plicated  machine.  A  man  is  the  counterpart  of  an  en- 
gine ;  food  is  shoveled  into  the  mouth  of  the  furnace  and 
is  oxidized,  i.  <?. ,  burned,  in  the  body,  producing  heat. 
In  the  engine  the  heat  is  turned  into  motion  by  means  of 
steam;  the  steam  pushes  the  piston,  which  moves  a  series 
of  levers.  In  the  body  the  same  result  is  reached  in  an- 
other way — by  muscular  contraction ;  the  muscles  of  the 
leg,  for  example,  move  the  complicated  system  of  levers 
formed  by  the  bones. 

If  a  locomotive  is  turned  loose  on  the  track — a  run- 
away, as  the  engineers  call  it — it  keeps  right  on  till  the 
fuel  is  burned  out  or  it  meets  with  a  smash  ;  if  the  steam 
is  turned  off,  it  will  stand  motionless  where  you  leave  it. 
Not  so  the  man  ;  he  acts  of  his  own  accord  and  you  can 
never  be  sure  of  what  he  will  do  next.  The  man  or  the  The  solution. 
bicyclist  cannot  be  a  mere  machine  ;  there  must  be  a  gov- 
erning power  corresponding  to  the  engineer  on  the  loco- 
motive. This  governing  power  in  man  is  the  mind ;  it  is 
just  this  power  concerning  which  we  are  to  busy  ourselves. 

After  all,  the  bicyclist  does  not  resemble  the  locomotive 
till  an  engineer  Is  put  on.  The  answer  to  our  conun- 
drum is,  therefore,  the  engineer. 

Among  the  many  problems  in  the  science  of  mind  we 

27 


28 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doi7ig. 


Willing,  and  its 
result. 


Time  of  will 
and  time  of 
action. 


Need  of 
experiment. 


A  method  of 

measuring 

time. 


The  fork,  the 
marker,  and  the 
-drum. 


naturally  turn  first  to  that  of  willing  an  act.  Why  does 
your  hand  move  ?  As  long  as  you  had  no  will  to  move 
it,  it  remained  still;  but  when  you  willed  to  move  it,  it 
moved.  It  is  the  will  to  move  which  preceded  the  act  of 
moving.  There  is  evidently  some  relation  between  the 
will  and  the  act. 

Raise  your  hand.  Did  the  hand  move  when  you 
willed  it  to  do  so  ?  or  was  the  hand  a  trifle  behind  time  ? 
Here  we  have  at  the  outset  a  knotty  problem  which  all 
the  discussion  of  a  dozen  arm-chair  psychologists  could 
not  solve.  Apparently  the  will  and  the  act  occur  at  the 
same  moment ;  but  we  have  grown  so  distrustful  of  ' '  ap- 
parently ' '  and  ' '  evidently ' '  that  we  must  remain  in 
doubt  till  the  case  is  proven  one  way  or  the  other  l)y  ex- 
periment. 

Here  we  have  an  example  of  how  all  psychological 
progress  is  limited  to  the  invention  of  experimental 
methods  and  apparatus.  The  question  just  stated  can 
be  answered  because  a  method  of  experiment  has  been 
devised  ;  when  the  answer  comes,  there  is  a  further 
question  which  we  at  once  ask,  but  this  one  cannot  be 
answered  till  some  one  finds  the  means  of  experiment. 
Since  the  question  as  to  time  has  been  raised,  before  in- 
quiring what  the  answer  and  the  second  question  are,  you 
must  learn  how  to  measure  time. 

For  the  purpose  of  measuring  small  intervals  of  time 
one  of  the  most  convenient  methods  is  the  graphic 
method.  Being  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  accurate 
methods  of  experiment,  it  is  extensively  employed  in 
physics,  astronomy,  physiology,  and  psychology. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  set  up  a  tuning-fork — 
not  a  little  one,  such  as  musicians  carry  in  the  pocket, 
but  one  a  foot   long,   vibrating   one   hundred   times   a 


Time  and  Action. 


29 


second.      By  means  of  a  battery  and  a  magnet  this  fork 
is  kept  going  of  itself  as  long  as  we  please.     The  prongs 
of  the  fork  move  up  and  down  one  hundred  times  a 
second.      Every  time  the  lower  prong  moves  downward,    Howtheywork. 
a  point  on  the  end 
dips   into  a  cup   of 
mercury,     whereby 
an  electric  circuit  is 
closed.     This    elec- 
tric   circuit     passes 
through  a  little  in- 
strument  called  a 
time-marker,   which 
makes  a  light  pointer 
move  back  and  forth 

,  111  Fig^.  ■\.    Apparatus  for  Recording  Time. 

also    one     hundred 

times  a  second.  The  point  of  the  time-marker  rests  on 
a  surface  of  smoked  paper  on  a  cylindrical  drum.  The 
smoked  paper  is  prepared  by  stretching  ordinary  glazed 
paper  around  the  drum  and  holding  a  smoky  gas  or 
benzine  flame  under  it.  A  soft  black  surface  is  thus  ob- 
tained, in  which  the  point  of  the  marker  scratches  a  line 
as  the  drum  is  turned. 

When  the  time-marker  is  not  connected  with  the  fork,    ^^^  record  and 

its  preserva- 
tion. 


Fig.  4.     A  Specimen  Record. 

the  point  draws  a  straight  line  as  the  drum  turns  ;  but 
as  soon  as  connection  is  made,  it  vibrates  and  draws  a 
wavy  line.  Fig.  4  shows  how  the  marker  makes  waves. 
To  preserve  the  record,   i.  e.,  to  keep  the  smoke  from 


30 


Thinki7ig,   Feeli7ig,   Doing. 


Reading  the 
record. 


Thousandths 
and  hun- 
dredths. 


The  two  dots. 


rubbing  off,  the  paper  is  cut  from  the  drum,  run  through 
a  varnish,  and  dried,  the  resuh  being  what  might  well  be 
called  a  study  in  black  and  white. 

Now,  if  the  point  of  the  marker  moves  back  and  forth 
just  one  hundred  times  a  second,  each  complete  wave 
must  mean  t^o  of  a  second.  Consequently,  if  a  dot  be 
placed  on  the  line  at  the  moment  I  move  my  finger  and 
another  at  the  moment  I  move  my  foot,  as  is  illustrated 
in  Fig.  4,  I  can  tell  just  how  much  time  elapsed  be- 
tween the  two  movements  by  counting  the  waves  and 
the  fraction  of  a  wave.  Thus  the  two  dots  are  distant  by 
seven  whole  waves  and  five  tenths  of  a  wave  extra  ;  the 
time  is,  therefore,  n\  hundredths  of  a  second,  or  0.075-^. 

In  making  careful  records  in  the  laboratory  it  is  need- 
ful to  count  in  thousandths  of  a  second,  but  there  is  so 
much  uncertainty  about  the  last  figure  that  in  the  final 
statement  of  results  it  is  not  only  unnecessary  to  state  the 
thousandths,  but  it  is  also  misleading  on  account  of  the 
false  degree  of  accuracy  implied.  We  will  therefore  use 
hundredths  of  a  second  to  count  by.  In  order  to  save 
the  multitude  of  o's  and  decimal  points  let  us  introduce 
the  sign  -  to  indicate  hundredths  of  a  second,  just  as  ° 
indicates  degrees.  We  will  call  the  sign  "sigma." 
Thus  instead  of  0.04'^  we  write  4^'. 

We  can  always  tell  the  time  consumed  if  we  can  get 
the  two  dots.  But  how  do  we  put  dots  on  the  line  when 
things  occur?  That  is  just  the  difficult  point  ;  because 
we  can  find  no  method  of  making  a  dot  at  the  moment 
of  willing,  we  cannot  tell  just  when  the  willing  occurs. 
We  have,  however,  found  a  way  of  making  dots  when 
most  acts  are  performed. 

Suppose  we  wish  to  make  a  dot  when  a  finger  is 
moved.     The  finger  is  placed  on  the  button  of  a  special 


Time   and  Action. 


31 


Getting  a  dot 
by  finger  move- 
ment. 


telegraph  key,  so  arranged  that  the  slightest  movement 
of  the  finger  breaks  an  electric  circuit.  This  electric  cir- 
cuit runs  through  a  large 
coil  of  wire  which  makes 
a  spark  whenever  the  cir- 
cuit  is  broken.  Two 
wires  run  from  this  spark- 
coil,  one  to  the  drum  and 
the  other  to  a  metal  point 
resting  on  the  smoked 
paper.  Whenever  a  spark  is  made,  it  jumps  through 
the  paper,  scattering  the  smoke  and  making  a  white  dot. 
In  Fig.  4  the  metallic  point  was  the  time-marker  itself. 
It  is  evident  that  every  time  we  move  the  finger  a  dot  is 
made. 

We  wish,  now,  to  find  out  if,  when  we  will  to  move  The  problem  of 

the  two  simul- 
taneous acts. 


Fig.  5.     Ready  for  a  Record. 


Fig.  6.     Measuring  the  Simultaneity  in  Actions  of  a  Piano-player. 


32 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Its  solution. 


Results  differ 
from  the 
intention. 


the  two  corresponding  fingers  of  the  two  hands  at  the 
same  moment,  they  really  do  move  as  intended  or  if  one 
is  behind  the  other.  To  do  this  we 
must  have  two  keys,  two  spark-coils, 
and  two  metal  points,  one  each  side 
of  the  time-line.  The  plan  of  this 
Fig.  7.    Result  of  the  Ex-  arrangement    is   shown   in    Fig.    6. 

periment  in  Fi.sf.  6.    The  ,-.ja  ,       r  , 

right  hand  (upper  dot)  is  When  the  lingers  move,  two  sparks 

0.005  of  a  second  behind   n      .^  ^       ■,  ■,  <  . 

the  left  (lower  dot).  ny  through  the  paper  and  two  white 
dots  are  made.  Do  they  occur  at  the  same  moment  ? 
A  specimen  record  is  shown  in  Fig.  7. 

Thus  the  will  to  move  both  hands  at  the  same  time  re- 
sults in  moving  the  two  at  different  times.  A  careful  in- 
vestigation shows  that  sometimes  the  right  precedes, 
sometimes  the  left,  in  irregular  order.  The  diiference 
frequently  amounts  to  1 2"  and  in  a  condition  of  fatigue 
may  reach  5^.  The  difference  may  seem  small.  But, 
for  example,  the  ear  is  very  sharp  and  there  are  people  in 
the  world  who,  intending  to  strike  the  keys  of  a  piano 
simultaneously,  generally  hit  one  slightly  behind  the 
other  with  a  difference  sufficient  to  be  heard.  Instead  of 
playing  music  as  written,  such  persons  play,  for  example. 


::;^F§=i=fr=!:^: 


3-1 — 5 ^; 


^T 


— t — 1^-« 


=1: 


r^'r?-^- 


r- 


ipzzp: 


i    I 


t- 


-<5>- 


S 


9 


Practical 
applications. 


There  might  be  an  educational  value  in  using  this 
method  with  many  persons  who  cannot  move  two  parts 
of  the  body  at  nearly  the  same  time.      Various  exercises 


Time  and  Action.  33 


used  in  preparing  speakers  and  actors,  e.  g. ,  simultane- 
ous movements  of  head  and  hand,  could  be  readily  re- 
corded. 

It  is  sufficient  for  practical  purposes  that  the  difference 
in  time  should  not  be  noticeable.  This  is  cared  for  by  lookfng  smau^'^' 
the  instructor.  It  is  to  be  remembered,  however,  that 
differences  which  the  instructor  may  not  notice  will  never- 
theless be  noticed  by  many  of  the  audience.  For  ex- 
ample, the  error  of  simultaneity  in  piano-playing  might 
readily  be  great  enough  to  produce  a  disagreeable  im- 
pression on  a  large  part  of  the  audience  and  yet  be  so 
small  as  to  have  escaped  the  teacher's  correction. 

Although  such  means  of  testing  simultaneity  would  be 
desirable  for  every  piano-player,  it  is,  of  course,  imprac- 
ticable to  provide  smoked  drums,  spark-coils,  etc.,  for 
general  use.  We  must  wait  till  some  ingenious  mechanic 
invents  a  hand  arrangement  to  place  directly  on  the  piano 
keys. 

We  have  thus  answered  our  question.  Since,  when  The  act  occurs 
we  will  to  move  two  hands  at  the  same  time,  the  actual  |J?^  ^^^  ^'^^  ^° 
movements  occur  at  different  times,  therefore  on  each 
occasion  the  act  of  at  least  one  hand  is  later  than  the  will. 
As  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  there  is  any  radical 
difference  between  the  two  hands,  it  would  be  unjustifi- 
able to  draw  any  other  conclusion  than  that  the  act  is  al- 
ways behind  the  will. 

And  now  for  the  second  question.      How  much  is  the   How  much? 
act  behind  the  will  ?     For  the  correct  answer  we  must 
wait  until  the  experimenter  can  find  it. 

This  question  is  such  an  important  one  that  we  are 
forced  to  make  a  guess  at  it  merely  in  order  to  get  along 
with  people.  The  time  must  be — as  we  can  judge  from 
our  own  experience — less  than   \\  or  100- ;  and,  since 


Rapidity  in 
tapping. 


Fastest 
records. 


Fatigue. 


34  Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 

one  second  is  not  worth  noticing  in  ordinary  matters  of 
life,  we  can  neglect  the  time  entirely.  This  does  not 
hold  good  in  extreme  cases.  With  persons  influenced  by 
curare  the  act  does  not  follow  at  all ;  in  some  diseases  the 
act  is  much  behind  time.  But  for  many  practical  pur- 
poses the  act  can  be  considered  as  occurring  at  the  mo- 
ment of  willing.  Such  a  case  is  that  of  rapidly  repeated 
movements,  which  we  will  now  consider. 

A  large  portion  of  the  community  depends  on  the 
rapidity  with  which  it  can  will  and  execute  certain  acts. 
One  of  the  elements  of  a  good  telegrapher  is  his  accuracy 
and  rapidity  of  tapping. 

The  experiments  on  tapping  are  most  accurately 
made  by  the  spark  method  we  have  just  described.  The 
finger  is  placed  on  a  telegraph  key,  as  shown  in  Fig.  5. 
The  person  is  told  to  tap  as  rapidly  as  he  can.  Series 
of  sparks  fly  ofl"  the  end  of  the  point  of  the  time- 
marker  in  Fig.  3.  On  counting  up  the  records  we  ob- 
tain the  number  of  hundredths  of  a  second  for  each  tap. 
A  good  average  rate  is  15-  per  tap,  or  nearly  seven 
taps  to  the  second. 

The  fastest  tapping  recorded  is  given  as  follows  : 

Middle   finger 82". 

Hand yl". 

Tongue yl". 

Jaw 1 1  J. 

Foot  .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .11-. 

(-  =  o.oi  second.) 

The  rapidity  of  tapping  decreases  with  fatigue.  Fig. 
8  represents  the  results  of  a  continuous  series  of  taps, 
the  lower  the  line  the  faster  the  tap  ;  the  straight  hori- 
zontal line  corresponds  to  a  tap-time  of  15-  and  the 
short  checks  on  this  line  mark  oK  the  seconds.     At  first 


Time  and  Action.  35 


the  tapping  is  rather  irregular,  but  it  is  on  the  whole  very 
rapid,  one  tap-time  being  only  1 1  -.     The  tapping  soon 


Fig.  8.     Influence  of  Fatigue  on  Tapping-time. 

becomes  steadier  and  remains  rapid  for  about  seventeen 
seconds.*  After  that  it  is  somewhat  slower  and  more  ir- 
regular, owing  probably  to  fatigue. 

The  mental  condition  has  a  most  powerful  influence  on   influence  of 
the  rapidity  of  tapping.      Excitement  makes  the  tapping  S distu?b!^ 
more  rapid.      The  influence  of  distraction  of  attention   ^"'^^^ 
is  shown  in  Fig.  9.     This  figure  has  the  same  meaning 
as   Fig,   8.       Adding  214  and  23  produced   a  marked 
slowness  in  tapping  ;  so  did  the  mental  labor  of  multi- 
plying 14  by  5.     It  takes  some  effort  for  an  ordinary 

Fig.  9.    Influence  of  Mental  Activity  on  Tapping-time. 

man  to  perform  these  calculations,  and  the  mental  work 
of  association  seemed  to  leave  less  energy  for  the  work 
of  will.  The  thought  suggests  itself  of  the  possibility 
of  measuring  the  amount  of  work  involved  in  various 
school  exercises  by  the  influence  on  tapping. 

The  figure  seems  to  show  that  momentary  distractions 
not  involving  any  work,  such  as  whistling,  clicking  the 
tongue,  or  lighting  a  match,  do  not  change  the  rapidity. 
They  do,  however,  improve  the  regularity ;  the  curve 
is  smoother.  It  is  a  noteworthy  fact  in  all  our  mental 
life  that  the  less  attention  we  pay  to  an  act,  the  more 
regular  it  is. 

The  rapidity  of  tapping  varies  with  the  time  of  day.    influence  of  the 
The  averages  of  six  weeks   of  work  give  the  following  ^^™^  ^'^  ^^^'- 


36 


Thinking,  Feeling,   Doi7ig, 


Influence  of 
habit. 


Influence  of 
age. 


Fatigue. 


results  :  at  8  a.  m.  the  time  required  for  making   360 
taps  is  37.8* ;  at  10  a.  m.,  35.5*  ;  at  12  m.,  34.6'^  ;  at  2 
P-  m.,  35. 5«  ;  at  4  p.  m.,  33.5^;  at  6  p.  m.,  35.1*. 
It  is  noticeable  that  these  results  correspond  to  the 

habits  of  the  pre- 
vious two  years  of 
the  person*  experi- 
mented upon  ;  these 
years  were  spent  in 
public  school  work 
with  a  daily  pro- 
gram beginning  at 
8  a.  m.  and  closing 
at  4  p.  m.,  with  an 
hour  and  a  half  in- 
termission at  noon. 


BOYS  AND.CIRU. 
BOYS 


Fig.  ID. 


Rapidity  of  Tapping  as  Dependent 
on  Age. 


FATIGUE. 


The  rapidity  of  action  increases  steadily  with  age. 
Measurements  of  tapping-time  on  one  hundred  New 
Haven  school  chil- 
dren of  each  age 
from  six  to  seven- 
teen are  shown  in 
Fig.  10.  The  fig- 
ures at  the  left  give 
the  number  of  taps 
in  five  seconds; 
those  at  the  bottom 
the  ages.  The  little 
children  are  very 
slow  ;  the  boys  at  each  age  tap  much  faster  than  the  girls. 

In  these  experiments  the  children  continued  tapping 
after  the  five  seconds.  After  tapping  thirty-five  seconds 
longer  a  record  was  again  taken.    The  difference  between 


-sr- 


Fig.  II. 


Fatigue  in  Tapping  as  Dependent 
on  Ag-e. 


Time  and  Action.  37 


the  two  sets  of  records  tells  how  much  the  child  lost 
owing  to  fatigue.  The  results  are  shown  in  Fig.  11. 
The  figures  on  the  left  give  the  percentage  of  loss  ;  those 
at  the  bottom  the  ages.  Thus,  at  six  years  of  age  the 
boys  lost  3-2^^^,  or  23  per  cent  of  the  original  number  of 
taps. 

The  amount  of  fatigue  was  greatest  at  eight  years 
and  decreased  with  advancing  age.  It  is  very  re- 
markable that  without  exception  of  a  single  age  the 
girls  were  less  fatigued  than  the  boys.  A  comparison 
of  the  two  figures  suggests  a  conclusion  as  to  the  im- 
petuosity of  the  boyish  character. 


CHAPTER  III. 


REACTION-TIME. 


A  series  of 
reactions. 


The  chain- 
reaction. 


When  you  signal  to  the  car  conductor  to  stop,  he  re- 
acts by  pulHng  the  bell-strap,  the  driver  reacts  to  the 
sound  of  the  bell  by  pulling  the  reins,  and  the  horses 
react  by  coming  to  a  rest.  By  reaction,  then,  we  will 
understand  action  in  response  to  a  signal.  The  time 
between  the  moment  of  the  signal  and  the  moment 
of  the  act  is  known  as  the  reaction-time. 

Is  there  any  such  time  ?  Quick  as  thought — that  must 
be  pretty  quick.  Let  a  number  of  persons  stand  in  In- 
dian file  as  if  about  to  march;  each  one  places  his  right 
hand  on  the  head  (or  shoulder)  of  the  person  in  front. 


Fig.  12.    A  Series  of  Reactions. 

Bend  the  file  around  till  a  complete  circle  is  formed  with 
every  right  hand  on  the  head  of  the  one  in  front.  One 
of  this  file  we  will  call  the  experimenter;  in  his  left  hand 
he  holds  a  watch — preferably  a  stop-watch.  All  the  rest 
close  their  eyes.     The  instruction  is  given :  Whenever  you 

38 


Reaction-  Time. 


39 


feel  a  sudden  pressure  from  the  hand  on  your  head,  you 
must  immediately  press  the  head  of  the  person  in  front. 
When  the  second-hand  of  the  watch  is  at  the  beginning 
of  a  minute,  the  experimenter  presses  the  head  of  the  one 
in  front,  he  presses  that  of  the  next  in  front,  and  so  on. 
The  pressure  thus  passes  all  around  the  group  and  finally 
comes  back  to  the  experimenter.  At  the  moment  he 
feels  the  pressure  he  notes  how  many  seconds  have  passed. 
Suppose  there  were  ten  persons  in  the  circle  and  the 


Fig.  13.    Chain-reaction. 


watch  has  gone  three  seconds  ;  then  three  seconds  is  the 
time  required  for  ten  acts  in  response  to  a  signal.  The 
a\-erage  time  for  one  reaction  is  obtained  by  dividing  the 
number  of  seconds  by  the  number  of  persons  ;  thus,  in  this 
case  the  reaction-time  would  be  to  second,  or  0.3-^. 

Almost  all  the  main  experiments  in  reaction-time  and 
thinking-time  can  be  illustrated  in  this  way  by  a  group 
often  or  more  persons.  Some  of  the  most  interesting  I 
will  indicate  after  describing  the  more  accurate  methods. 


40 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Time  is 
required  for 
reaction. 


The  story  of  the 

astronomer's 

assistant. 


The  story  of  the 
two  astron- 
omers. 


They  all 
disagree. 


Not  the  fault  of 
the  star. 


Others  can  be  readily  devised  by  any  one  ingenious  at 
games. 

It  takes  time,  then,  to  react.  A  hundred  years  ago 
people  did  not  know  this.     And  thereby  hangs  a  tale. 

Astronomers  have  to  record  the  moment  of  the  pas- 
sage of  a  star  across  lines  in  a  telescope.  In  1795  the 
British  astronomer  royal  found  that  his  assistant,  work- 
ing with  another  telescope  at  the  same  time,  was  making 
his  records  too  late  by  half  a  second.  Later  on,  this  dif- 
ference amounted  to  0.8-^.  This  difference  was  large 
enough  to  seriously  disturb  the  calculations,  so  the  poor 
fellow  lost  his  place  for  the  sake  of  eight  tenths  of  a 
second. 

Many  years  later  two  famous  astronomers  were  ob- 
serving the  stars  together  and  recording  their  passages 
across  the  telescope.  Strange  to  say,  one  was  steadily 
behind  the  other.  Now  it  would  not  do  to  make  accu- 
sations against  a  noted  astronomer  ;  this  set  people  to 
thinking.  One  of  the  astronomers  went  to  a  third  as- 
tronomer and  again  there  was  disagreement.  Finally, 
after  more  experience,  astronomers  in  general  reached 
the  conclusion  that  everybody  disagreed  with  everybody 
else.  Moreover,  men  who  disagreed  in  one  way  at  one 
time  would  be  likely  to  disagree  differently  at  another 
time  ;  so  that  a  man  did  not  even  agree  with  himself 
As  this  was  evidently  not  the  fault  of  the  star,  the 
conclusion  was  finally  reached  that  each  person  had  a 
peculiar  error  of  his  own.  This  was  called  by  the  queer 
name,  ' '  personal  equation. ' '  The  British  astronomer, 
who  did  not  suspect  that  he  himself  might  be  incorrect, 
was  perhaps  no  nearer  right  than  his  assistant.  At  any 
rate,  the  actual  time  of  passing  of  the  star  differed  from 
the  recorded  time. 


Reaction-  Ti7?ie. 


41 


Americans  are  noted  for  asking,  ' '  How  much  ? ' ' 
Science  is,  in  this  respect,  merely  concentrated  Ameri- 
canism ;  it  always  asks,  "  How  much?  "^  It  is  not  suf- 
ficient to  know  that  we  are  always  behind  time  ;  let  us 
make  a  systematic  inquiry  of  how  much  time  we  lose, 
A  miss  is  as  good  as  a  mile,  but  it  is  a  very  interesting 
thing  to  know  just  how 
bad  the  miss  is.  There- 
fore we  will  get  to  work 
systematically  to  meas- 
ure just  how  much  time 
we  lose  in  acting  to  a 
signal. 

Even  the  best  of  us  is 
inattentive.  So  to  be 
rid  of  all  distraction  the 
person  experimented 
upon  is  put  in  a  queer 
room,  called  the  ' '  iso- 
lated room,"  whose 
thick  walls  and  double 
doors  keep  out  all  sound 
and  light.  When  a  per- 
son locks  himself  in,  he 
has  no  communication 
with  the  outside  world 
except  by  telephone. 

All  the  sights  and 
sounds  can  be  shut  out, 
all  disturbances  of  touch  can  be  made  small  by  comfortable 

*  There  are  so-called  "  qualitative  sciences  "  that  have  no  methods  of  meas- 
urement or  statistics.  These  are  the  demireps  of  the  scientific  world  with 
whom  we  must  put  up  because  we  haven't  more  respectable  members  of  so- 
ciety to  take  their  places. 


How  much 
time  is 
required  ? 


Fig.  14.    In  the  Reaction-room. 


Systematic 
work  proposed. 


The  isolated 

room. 


How  it  feels. 


42 


Thmking,   Feelhig,   Doi?ig. 


A  source  of 
disturbance. 


More  reliable 
results. 


An  explanation. 


chairs,  but,  alas  !  we  have  let  in  a  sad  source  of  disturb- 
ance, namely,  the  person  himself.  Let  me  describe  what 
I  hear  and  see  in  the  silence  and  darkness  of  the  room. 
My  clothes  creak,  scrape,  and  rustle  with  every  breath  ; 
the  muscles  of  the  cheeks  and  eyelids  rumble  ;  if  I  hap- 
pen to  move  my  teeth,  the  noise  seems  terrific.  I  hear 
a  loud  and  terrible  roaring  in  the  head  ;  of  course,  I 
know  it  is  merely  the  noise  of  the  blood  rushing  through 
the  arteries  of  the  ears  (what  you  hear  when  you  place 
a  shell  to  the  ear),  but  I  can  readily  imagine  that  I  pos- 
sess an  antiquated  clock-work  and  that,  when  I  think,  I 
can  hear  the  wheels  go  '  round.  As  for  the  light — great 
waves  of  lavender-colored  light  sweep  down  in  succes- 
sion all  over  the  darkness  in  front ;  beautiful  blue  jings 
with  purple  centers  grow  and  grow  and  burst,  only  to  start 
over  again  in  different  colors.  The  physiologist  tells  us 
that  these  are  merely  effects  of  chemical  processes  going  on 
in  the  eye  ;  and,  indeed,  everybody  sees  these  things 
when  he  closes  his  eyes  at  night.  But  that  does  not  help 
us  to  get  darkness. 

Be  it  as  it  may,  the  results  are  far  more  reliable  than 
those  obtained  in  ordinary  laboratories  and  under  ordi- 
nary conditions  of  distraction  by  the  rattle  of  the 
streets,  the  banging  of  college  clocks,  the  buzzing  of 
machinery,  and  the  commotion  of  students. 

It  must  not  be  thought  that  the  invention  of  this  room 
is  an  imputation  on  my  part  against  the  attentive  powers 
of  humanity.  It  is  simply  a  fact,  to  which  we  must  all 
plead  guilty,  that  we  cannot  pay  attention  amid  the 
bustle  and  roar  of  life  around  us.  It  is  easy  to  imagine 
what  a  boon  an  office  on  this  plan  would  be  to  a  busy 
banker  or  a  newspaper  editor. 

Having  put  the   person    in    the    isolated    room    with 


Reaction-  Thne. 


43 


nothing  but  electrical  connection  to  the  apparatus  in  the  Reaction  to 
other  rooms,  we  will  begin  by  asking  how  long  he  requires  to  so""^. 
react  to  a  sound.  We  will  use  the  graphic  method,  as  illus- 
trated in  Fig.  3,  with  the  addition. of  the  spark  method 
explained  in  Chapter  II.  Let  us  be,  modern  and  send  the 
sound  by  telephone.  A  multiple  key,  in  which  electrical 
currents  can  be  combined  in  forty-one  different  ways,  is 
so  arranged  that  by  pressing  it  a  sound  is  sent  through 
a  telephone  and  at  exactly  the  same  moment  a  spark  is 
made  on  the  drum. 

The  various  arrangements  for  making  the  experiments  Great  accuracy 
have  been  developed  to  a  high  grade  of  accuracy  and 
convenience.  In  the  recording  room 
the  smoked  drum  stands  on  the 
table,  the  electric  fork  is  in  front,  the 
multiple  key  in  the  middle.  The 
multitude  of  wires  and  accessory  ap- 
paratus seems  to  make  a  hopeless 
chaos,  but  they  are  all  carefully  ar- 
ranged for  convenience  and  accuracy. 

The  person  in  the  isolated  room — 
let  us  call  him  the  observer,  for  short 
— sits  comfortably  with  the  telephone  '^j 
at  his  ear  and  with  a  curious  electric 
reaction-key  (Fig.  15)  in  his  hand 
(the  ordinary  telegraph  key  has 
proved  itself  too  awkward  and 
fatiguing).  The  forefinger  is  placed 
in  the  hole  of  the  smaller,  or  movable, 

slide,  and  the  thumb  is  placed  in  the  hole  or  against  the    The  reaction- 
hook  of  the  lower,  or  adjustable,  slide.      Flexible  wires    ^^^" 
lead  to  the  post  at  the  top  and  to  the  movable  slide. 
The  hand  is  placed  in  any  convenient  position,  and  the 


The  observer. 


Fig.  15.    Reaction-key. 


44 


Thinkmg,   Feeling,   Doing. 


The  experi- 
ment. 


thumb  and  finger  are  held  apart.     The  shghtest  move- 
ment of  the  finger  makes  a  spark  on  the  drum. 

When  the  muhiple  key  is  pressed,  the  telephone  cir- 
cuit is  closed  and  whatever  sound  is  sent  through  the 
transmitter  is  then  heard  by  the  person  experimented 
upon.  At  exactly  the  same  instant  a  record  is  made  on 
the  time-line  on  the  drum.      The  moment  the  sound  is 


The  average 
results. 


Fig.  i6.     Reaction  to  Sound. 

heard  by  the  person  experimented  upon,  he  moves  the 
finger  in  the  reaction-key  ;  thus  a  second  record  is  made 
on  the  time-line.  A  record  similar  to  that  of  Fig.  4  is 
obtained  ;  the  number  of  waves,  however,  will  depend 
on  the  particular  person,  the  particular  sound,  etc. 

For  noises  the  reaction-time  is  a  trifle  shorter  than  for 
tones.  For  example,  a  person  who  reacts  to  a  noise  in 
1 1 2"  will  take  perhaps  15- for  a  tone.      Even  the  whistle 


Reaction-  Time. 


45 


of  a  locomotive  is  not  so  conducive  to  a  quick  jump  by 
the  passengers  on  the  platform  as  a  sudden  escape  of 
steam. 

A  particular  case  of  reaction  to  sound  is  found  in  start- 
ing a  race.  In  short-distance,  or  sprint,  racing  the  time 
required  for  the  re- 
action is  a  \'ery  im- 
portant factor.  The 
starter' s  pistol  is 
fired  and  the  racers 
are  off,  but  the  man 
with  a  very  short 
reaction -time  will 
have  gained  a  re- 
spectable fraction  of  ^^§-  ''■  '^^"  Pi^toi-key. 
a  second  over  the  other.  To  measure  this  reaction-time 
an  electric  contact  is  put  on  the  end  of  the  starter's  pistol. 
The  arrangement  is  shown  in  Fig.  17.     The  firing  of  the 

.pistol  causes 

j^  a      cL  the  wing  to  fly 

back  and  break  an 
electric  circuit,  thus 
making  a  record.  A 
runner's  key  of  the 
kind  shown  in  Fig.  18 
is  attached  to  the  run- 
ner by  a  thread.      The 


k;^^ 


Fig.  iS.     The  Runner's  Key. 


start  of  the  runner  jerks  and  breaks    the  thread  ;    this 
moves  the  lever  and  makes  another  record. 

Although  I  have  never  had  time  to  carry  out  an  ex- 
tended series  of  experiments  on  racers,  the  experi- 
ments made  have  shown  a  few  facts.  The  first  point 
noticeable  is  that  long-distance  runners   are  very  much 


Reaction-time 
at  the  start  of  a 
race. 


Some  results. 


46 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Fig.  19.    Measuring  a  Runner's  Reaciion-time. 


Reaction-time 
to  touch. 


slower  than  sprint  runners  who  practice  quick  starting; 
this  shows  that  the  reaction-time  can  be  reduced  by  prac- 
tice. The  reaction-time  seems  to  be  longer  where  the 
whole  body  has  to  be  started  than  where  only  a  finger  is 
moved  ;  the  mass  to  be  moved  thus  seems  to  have  an  in- 
fluence on  the  time.  In  some  races  the  pistol  has  gone  off 
and  the  photograph  has  been  made  of  the  runners  before 

they  have  reacted. 
The  reaction- 
time  to  touch  can 
be  found  by  using 
an  instrument 
shown  in  Fig.  20. 
The  flexible  con- 
ductors carrying  the  current  pass  through  the  screws  of 
this  stimulator  and  then  through  the  reaction-key.     The 


Fig.  20.     The  Touch-key. 


Reaction-  Time. 


47 


person  experimented  upon  closes  his  eyes.  Some  one 
takes  the  stimulator  and  touches  him,  whereupon  he 
reacts  by  moving  his  finger  as  before.  The  stimulator 
makes  a  record  on  the  drum  and  so  does  the  key. 

It  can  be  laid  down  as  a  general  law  that  a  weak  touch 


Relation  to 
intensity. 


Fig.  21.    Reaction  to  Touch. 

is  answered  by  a  slower  reaction  than  a  moderately  strong 
one.  As  the  touch  becomes  stronger  the  reaction-time 
decreases,  but  when  it  becomes  very  strong  the  time  is 
again  lengthened.  The  moral  is  this:  if  you  want  time 
to  recover  after  dealing  a  blow,  hit  your  antagonist  ver>^ 
hard  or  almost  not  at  all. 

To  experiment  on  the  re- 
action-time for  temperature- 
sensations  a  metal  ball  is 
screwed  on  the  touch-stimu- 
lator in  place  of  the  rubber 
tip.  The  ball  is  heated  or 
cooled  as  desired. 

The  reaction-time  for  cold 
is   somewhat    shorter   than 
that   for  hot,  and  both  are 
longer  than  for  touch.     For  example,  the  figures  for  one 
experimenter  are  :  touch,  ii-:  cold,  12^;  hot,  13-. 

The  reaction-time  to  light  is  found  by  using  an  electric 


Fig.  22.    A  Reaction  to  Cold. 


Reaction-time 
to  hot  and 
cold. 


48 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Reaction-time 
to  light. 


The  photog- 
rapher's appli- 
cation. 


Reaction-time 
in  children. 


flash  instead  of  the  telephone.  The  intensity  of  the  Hght 
has  a  very  great  influence.  A  very  weak  light  might 
give  33-,  while  a  strong  one  would  give  20-^  for  the  same 
person. 

This  interval  renders  it  possible  for  the  photographer 
to  get  perfectly  natural  flash-light  pictures.  The  flash 
goes  ofl",  the  picture  is  taken,  and  all  is  again  dark  in  a 
couple  hundredths  of  a  second. ,    But  such  a  small  time  is 

quicker    than    re- 


REACnON  TIML 


iOYS- 

CffilS^ 

4KnMmC4L  vstx 


and  so 

done 

persons 


IS 


Fig.  23.    Reaction-time  Decreases  with  Age. 


action-time 
the  whole 
before  the 
can  move. 

Children  become 
Steadily  quicker  as 
they  grow  older. 
The  results  of  the 
New  Haven  meas- 
urements are  shown 
in    Fig.    23.       The 


figures  at  the  left  indicate  the  number  of  hundredths  of 
a  second  required  for  reaction  to  sight ;  those  at  the  bot- 
tom the  ages.  The  topmost  line  in  the  figure  relates  to 
another  matter.  Boys  are  much  quicker  than  girls  at 
each  age — that  is,  in  simple  reaction  ;  how  they  com- 
pare in  quickness  of  thought  will  be  told  in  the  following 
chapter. 


CHAPTER     IV. 

THINKING -TIME. 

The  simple  reaction-time  has  led  to  a  method  of 
measuring  the  time  of  thought.  One  of  the  fundamental  thought. 
processes  of  thought  is  recognition.  To  determine  the 
time  of  recognition  the  subject  reacts  on  one  occasion 
just  as  quickly  as  he  can,  without  waiting  to  notice  what 
he  is  reacting  to.  In  popular  phrase,  he  hits  back  with- 
out waiting  to  know  what  struck  him.  Recognition  can- 
not be  said  to  be  present.  On  the  next  occasion  he  fully 
recognizes  what  he  hears,  sees,  or  feels  before  he  reacts. 
The  difference  in  time  between  these  two  cases  gives  the 
recognition-time.  Properly  speaking,  the  former  reaction 
would  be  the  true,  simple  reaction,  but  this  distinction  is 
often  overlooked  and  both  kinds  are  then  lumped 
together. 

Experiments  on  one  subject  gave  the  following  recog-   Recognition- 
nition-times  :  for  a  color,  30-  ;  for  a  letter,  542^ ;  for  a  *^™^' 
short  word,  52-, 

These  times  refer  to  experiments  where  the  person  is 
ready  and  eager  to  recognize  the  object.  How  long  it 
would  take  to  recognize  an  object  unwillingly,  e.  g.,  a 
tradesman  by  an  English  snob,  has  not  yet  been  deter- 
mined. 

A  single  figure,  such  as  a  triangle  or  a  square,  is  recog- 

j  -11  -1  1  ITT  Recognition  of 

nized  as    quickly  as    a   simple    color.      We    can   grasp   complex 
enough  of  a  triangle  to  recognize  it  without  attending  to   '^  ""^^  ^' 

49 


50 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Recognition  of 

letters. 


details ;  a  three-cornered  figure  is  as  simple  as  a  color 
when  nothing  but  its  corneredness  is  noticed.  A  single 
letter  takes  the  same  time  as  a  short  word.  The  total 
impression  of  a  well-known  object  is  so  familiar  to  us 
that  we  need  no  more  divide  it  into  its  parts  in  order  to 
distinguish  it  than  we  do  in  the  case  of  a  simple  color. 
In  reading  we  do  not  divide  the  word  into  its  letters,  we 
grasp  the  word  as  a  whole  by  a  single  thought. 

The  various  letters  of  the  alphabet  require  different 
times  for  recognition.  There  are  slight  differences  for 
letters  of  different  sets  of  type;  they  vary  from  0.6'^ 
(0.006-^)  to  5w  (0.05-^).  The  following  sets  of  letters 
are  arranged  in  the  order  of  time  required. 


Good. 


Fair. 


mwdgvyjpkfblighrxt 


mwp  qv  ykb 


dpqmyknw 


djrlonig^hu 


ogvxhbjlia 


Poor. 


ov  ane  s  cz 


atfsxzce 


tuzrscfe 


A  German  requires  iw  to  2w  more  time  to  recognize  a 
German  letters,  letter  of  his  antiquated  alphabet,  for  example,  )t>,  than 
to  recognize  a  letter  in  the  Latin  type,  w.  But  in  read- 
ing words  no  more  time  is  required  to  recognize  the 
word  in  either  case.  The  twists  and  tails  of  the  old 
letters  cause  a  loss  of  time  in  recognizing  a  single  letter, 
but  in  grasping  the  words  only  the  main  features  receive 
attention  anyway. 

Another  of  the  fundamental  processes  of  thought  is 

Discrimination-      .....  _       .  ,  .  11111  1 

time.  discrimmation  :     Is   it  white   or   black,    loud   or   weak, 


Thinking-  Time. 


51 


For  sisrht. 


hot    or  cold?       In    all  cases    it    takes    time    to    decide. 

Suppose  that  the  person  on  whom  the  experiment  is  piscrimination- 
made  is  to  discriminate  between  two  different  tones.  In 
addition  to  the  arrangement  described  on  page  43,  we  re- 
quire two  tuning-forks  of  different  pitch.  The  sound  is 
sent  by  telephone  as  before.  The  person  is  told  not  to  react 
till  he  has  recognized  which  tone  he  hears.  Sometimes 
one  tone  is  sent,  sometimes  the  other.  If  we  determine  the 
person's  reaction-time  for  a  single  tone,  where  he  knows 
that  only  one  tone  is  used,  and  also  the  reaction-time 
with  discrimination  between  two  tones,  we  are  justified  in 
subtracting  the  former  from  the  latter,  and  calling  the 
result  the  "discrimination-time"  for  two  tones.  In  a 
similar  manner  the  discrimination-time  for  three,  four,  or 
more  tones  can  be  measured. 

The  discrimination-time  for  sight  can  be  very  prettily 
illustrated.  The  Geissler  tubes  are  filled  with  differ- 
ent gases  so  that  when  an  electric  current  is  sent  through 
them  they  show  different  colors.  An  induction-coil  (or 
spark-coil)  is  fitted  up  so  that  the  current  can  be  sent 
through  any  one  at  pleasure.  To  get  the  simple  reaction- 
time  one  tube  alone,  e.  g.^  a  red  tube,  is  used,  the  time 
between  the  flash  and  the  reaction  being  measured  as 
before.  Then  two,  three,  etc.,  are  used,  just  as  men- 
tioned for  tones.  Ordinary  times  for  discrimination  can 
be  represented  by  the  following  specimens  :  for  two  ob- 
jects, 8-;  for  three,  14-;  for  four  or  five,  15-. 

The  next  element  of  thought-life  to  be  considered  is 
choice.  How  shall  we  determine  the  choice-time  ?  The 
Geissler  tubes  can  be  very  conveniently  used  for  this 
purpose.  The  subject  places  his  five  fingers  on  a  five- 
knobbed  telegraph  key.  When  he  sees  the  red  light  he 
is  to  press  his  thumb  ;  when  he  sees  the  yellow  he  is  to 


Choice-time. 


52 


Thi7iki7ig,   feeling,   Doing. 


Results. 


Time  of  dis- 
crimination and 
choice  in  chain- 
reaction. 


press  his  forefinger  ;  and  so  on.  There  are  thus  five  ob- 
jects for  discrimination  and  five  movements  between  which 
to  choose.  Of  course  the  time  is  much  lengthened.  If 
we  know  the  discrimination-time  and  reaction-time  for 
five  colors,  we  can  subtract  these  from  the  total  time 
with  choice,  thus  getting  the  choice-time  for  five.  It  is 
evident  that  the  choice-time  for  two,  three,  four,  six,  or 
more  objects  can  be  similarly  found.  One  subject  gave 
a  choice-time  of  8-  for  two  fingers,  with  steady  increase 
i;p  to  40-  for  ten  fingers. 

After  some  practice  with  the  same  fingers  for  the  same 
colors,  the  act  of  choice  gradually  falls  out  and  the  move- 
ment becomes  associated  to  the  color.  The  extra  time 
still  remaining  might  be  considered  as  a  kind  of  associa- 
tion-time for  movements.  The  association-time  in  the 
usual  meaning  is  measured  differently. 

The  time  of  discrimination  and  choice  combined  can  be 
obtained  from  a  group  of  persons  without  any  other  ap- 
paratus than  a  watch.  The  persons  of  the  group  stand 
in  a  ring,  as  shown  in  Fig.  13,  each  with  his  hand 
on  his  neighbor's  head.  In  the  first  place,  the  simple 
reaction-time  is  measured  by  giving  the  head  a  slight 
push  and  sending  the  push  all  around  the  circle,  as  de- 
scribed on  page  39.  "Next  time,"  says  the  experi- 
menter, * '  each  of  you  will  receive  a  slight  push  on  the 
head  either  forward  or  backward.  You  are  to  send  the 
push  along  in  the  same  way. ' ' 

The  experiment  is  made  three  or  four  times,  sometimes 
with  a  forward  push,  sometimes  with  a  backward  one. 
Each  person,  not  knowing  which  he  Is  to  receive, 
will  be  obliged  to  discriminate  and  then  choose  the  ap- 
propriate movement  of  the  hand.  By  subtracting  the 
simple  reaction-time   from  this  last  result,   the  time  for 


Thinking-  Time. 


53 


discrimination    and    choice    for   two  things  is  obtained. 

Then  the  experiment  is  repeated  with  three  movements: 
right,  left,  or  forward.  Then  with  four:  right,  left,  for- 
ward, or  backward.  The  time  will  be  found  to  grow 
longer  as  the  number  increases. 

The   time  of  association  of  ideas,   which    is  what    is   Association- 
usually  meant  by  association-time,  is  best  measured  by    ""^' 
calling  out  words  or  showing  pictures  to  some  one  who  is 
to  tell  what  he  associates  to  each.      For  example,  I  call 
out  ' '  house ' '  and  you  say  ' '  street. ' ' 

A  peculiar  mouth-key  is  placed  before  the  transmitter  The  mouth-key. 
in  the  recording 
room  and  a  some- 
what similar  one  in 
the  experiment 
room.  The  ex- 
perimenter shouts 
some  word,  e.  g., 
"glass."  This 
causes  the  thin  plate 
in  the  mouth-key  to 
rattle  and  make  a 
spark  record  on  the 
drum.  At  the  same 
moment  the  subject 

hears     the    word    in    ^'^•'4-    Reaction  by  Voice ;  or,  the  Voice-key. 

the  telephone  at  his  ear.  He  shouts  back  what  he 
first  thinks  of,  e.g.,  "  water. ' '  This  makes  a  similar 
record.  The  total  time  between  the  two  records  less  the 
discrimination-time  and  choice-time  will  give  the  associa- 
tion-time. 

The  associations  may  be  of  various  kinds.     In  "free"    „ 

■'  Free  associa- 

association,  the  subject  thinks  of  whatever  he  pleases.    *^°"' 


54  Thinkings  Feelings   Doing. 

The  time  for  free  association  can  be  put  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  8ow. 

In  a  "  forced"  association  the  subject  is  allowed  to  as- 
Forced  sociate  only  objects  bearing  certain  relations  to  the  object 
presented.  Thus,  whenever  he  hears  the  name  of  a 
country  he  must  name  one  of  its  cities.  In  such  a  case 
he  has  a  moderate  range  of  association.  In  a  strictly 
forced  association  there  is  no  freedom.  Thus,  whenever 
the  name  of  a  person  is  mentioned,  his  native  land  must 
be  associated. 


I 

X 

8 

=      8 

2 

X 

8 

=  i6 

3 

X 

8 

=   24 

4 

X 

8 

=  32 

5 

X 

8 

=  40 

6 

X 

8 

=  48 

7 

X 

8 

=  56 

8 

X 

8 

=  64 

9 

X 

8 

=  72 

lO 

X 

8' 

=  80 

II 

X 

8 

:=  88 

12 

X 

8 

=  96 

Fig.  25.     Strictly  Forced  Associations. 

As  specimen  results  we  can  give  the  following  associa- 
Resuits.  tion-times:  translation  from  one's  own  language  to  one 

a  trifle  less  familiar,  15-  to  30^;  giving  the  succeeding 
month  of  the  year,  25-  to  30- ;  simple  addition  of  two 
figures,  i2w  to  22-;  simple  multiplication  of  two  figures, 
25-^to35r. 

A  particular  form  of  association  is  found  in  the  logical 


Thmking-  Time.  55 


judgment.  In  fact,  many  of  the  forced  associations  are  Logical 
really  abbreviated  logical  judgments.  Suppose  it  to  be  Judgment. 
required  to  associate  the  whole  when  a  part  is  given,  e.  g. , 
given  "root,"  associated  "tree";  this  is  simply  a  prac- 
tical abbreviation  of  "  a  root  is  a  part  of  a  tree. ' '  More 
difficult  cases  can  be  devised.  It  holds  good  as  a  gen- 
eral rule  that  in  actual  thinking  the  forms  of  logical 
thought  become  forced  associations. 

All  our  acts  are  complications  of  thinking-times,  sim- 
ple reaction-times,  and  action-times.  Study  of  mental  and 
muscular  time  for  practical  purposes  has  been  made  in 
only  a  few  cases. 

The  visit  of  several  expert  swordsmen  to  Yale  furnished   Mental  and 

■*•  .  .  .  ,.        .        muscular  time 

the  opportunity  for  some  experiments  on  their  rapidity  in   in  fencing. 
some  of  the  fundamental  movements  of  fencing. 

The  first  experiment  included  a  determination   of  the   First  experi- 

•  1       r     1  •  r  ment. 

Simple  reaction-time  and  of  the  time  of  muscular  move- 
ment. The  fencer  stood  ready  to  lunge,  with  the  point 
of  the  foil  resting  to  one  side  against  a  metal  disk.  A 
flexible  conducting  cord,  fastened  to  the  handle  of  the 
foil,  hung  in  a  loop  from  the  back  of  the  neck.  A  large 
metal  disk  was  placed  directly  in  front  of  the  fencer  at  a 
distance  of  75^*" .  Just  above  this  disk  was  a  flag  held  on 
a  foil  by  an  operator  standing  behind  it.  A  movement  of 
the  flag  was  the  signal  upon  which  the  lunge  was  ex- 
ecuted. 

The  spark  method  of  recording  was  so  arranged  that 
the  primary  circuit  passed  through  the  electric  switch,  a 
spark-coil,  the  flexible  conducting  cords,  the  foils,  and 
either  one  of  the  two  disks.  Every  make  and  break  of 
this  circuit  made  a  spark  record  on  the  drum.  As  long 
as  the  foils  rested  against  the  disks  the  current  was  closed. 
The  movement  of  the  flag-foil  broke  the  circuit  for  an  in- 


56 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


stant,    making    a    record    of   the    moment    of    signal. 
The    first   movement    of  the   fencer's    foil    broke    the 
circuit   again    at   the    small  disk,   making    a    record  of 
the    moment    of    reaction.     The    striking    of    the   foil 
against  the  large  disk  made  a  third  record.     The  time 


Fig.  26.     Measuring  Mental  and  Muscular  Time  in  Fencing 


Second  experi- 
ment. 


between  the  first  and  second  records  gave  the  simple  re- 
action-time ;  that  between  the  second  and  third  gave  the 
time  of  movement  through  the  given  distance.  About 
ten  experiments  were  made  on  each  person. 

In  the  second  experiment  the  flag-foil  was  moved  in 
various  directions.  The  point  of  the  foil  rested  against 
the  small  disk.  The  movement  in  any  way  of  the  flag  was 
the  signal  for  a  corresponding  movement  of  the  foil. 
Acts  of  discrimination  and  choice  were  thus  introduced 
into  the  reaction-time.      The  movement  of  the  foils  gave 


Thinki?ig-  Time.  57 


records  as  before.  The  time  required  can  be  called  the 
reaction-time  with  discrimination  and  choice.  About  ten 
experiments  were  made  on  each  person. 

The  persons  experimented  upon  consisted  of  Dr. 
Graeme  Hammond,  Dr.  Echverria,  Dr.  P.  F.  O'Con- 
nor, and  Mr.  Shaw  (all  expert  amateur  fencers),  A. 
Jacobi,  master  of  arms  of  the  New  York  Athletic  Club, 
Prof.  Ladd,  formerly  practiced  in  fencing,  and  Prof 
Williams,  with  no  knowledge  of  fencing. 

The  results  were  : 

I. -Simple  reaction-time  :  Echverria,  17-;  Williams, 
IQ^" ;  Hammond,  19^;  Ladd,  232" ;  Jacobi,  232*; 
Shaw,  23^;  O'Connor,  26-. 

2.  Time  of  muscular  movement  involved  in  the  lunge 
through  75^"^:  Jacobi,  27-;  O'Connor,  29-;  Echver- 
ria, 31-^;  Shaw,  32^;  Hammond,  32-;  Ladd,  522"; 
Williams,  57-. 

3.  Reaction-time  with  discrimination  :  Hammond, 
22w;  Ladd,  242";  Williams,  25^;  Jacobi,  29-;  Ech- 
verria, 30-;  Shaw,  36-;  O'Connor,  36-. 

The  experiments  probably  derive  their  chief  value  as 
calling  attention  to  the  experimental  study  of  the  psycho- 
logical elements  involved  in  games,  sports,  gymnastics, 
and  all  sorts  of  athletic  work.  Without  experimenting 
on  large  numbers  of  fencers  and  others,  I  would  not 
attempt  to  make  any  quantitative  comparisons  between 
the  two.  The  following  qualitative  conclusions  seem, 
however,  to  be  fully  justified. 

1.  It  is  possible  to  analyze  fencing  movements 
into  their  mental  and  bodily  elements,  and  to  measure 
them. 

2.  The  average  fencer  is  not  quicker  in  simple  reaction 
(where   a   few    mental    elements    are    involved)   than   a 


Results. 


Conclusions. 


58 


Thinking,   Peeling,   Doing. 


Fencing  devel- 
ops muscular 
but  not  mental 
quickness. 


Mental  and 
muscular  time 
in  arm  move- 
ments. 


trained  scientist,   and  neither  class  shows  an  excessive 
rapidity. 

3.  When  once  the  mind  is  made  up  to  execute  a 
movement,  fencers  are  far  quicker  in  the  actual  execu- 
tion. In  rough  figures,  it  takes  them  only  half  as  long 
as  the  average  individual. 

4.  As  the  mental  process  becomes  more  complicated,  the 
time  required  by  the  average  fencer  is  greater  than  that 
required  by  a  trained  scientist.  The  shortest  time  of  all, 
however,  is  that  of  Dr.  Hammond,  whose  mental  quick- 
ness has  probably  been  developed  in  some  other,  way. 

5.  The  general  conclusion  seems  to  be  that  fencing 
does  not  develop  mental  quickness  more  than  scientific 
pursuits,  but  it  does  develop  to  a  high  degree  the  .rapid- 
ity of  executing  movements.  It  would  be  important  to 
determine  if  this  holds  good  of  the  other  sports  and  ex- 
ercises, or  if  some  of  them  are  especially  adapted  to 
training  mental  quickness. 

In  order  to  study  the  quickness  of  movements  of  the 
arm  we  use  the  apparatus  shown  in  Fig.  27.  A  horizon- 
tal brass  bar  carries  on  it  three  adjustable  blocks,  A,  B, 
and  C.     The  block  A  has  a  flag  which  may  be  suddenly 


Fig.  27.    Apparatus  for  Measuring  Rapidity  of  Thought  and  Action. 

jerked  to  one  side  by  a  thread.  The  other  blocks  have 
light  bamboo  sticks  projecting  upward.  The  whole  ar- 
rangement as  used  on  a  pugilist  is  shown  in  Fig.  28. 
The  boxer  takes  his  position  and  places  his  fist  just  be- 
hind the  stick  at  C.     At  the  moment  the  flag  moves  he 


Thinkmg-  Time. 


59 


is  to  strike  straight   out.      The  apparatus  is  connected 
with  the  spark-coil  and  the  recording  drum. 

The  flag  is  jerked  ;  this  makes  a  spark  on  the  time- 
Hne.  The  boxer  strikes,  knocking  down  both  sticks. 
Each  stick  makes  a  spark  also.  We  thus  have  three 
sparks  on  the  time-line.  The  time  between  the  first  and 
the  second  gives  the  simple  reaction  of  the  boxer ;   that 


Time  of  reaction 
and  action  of  a 
pugilist. 


Fig.  28.     Measuring  how  Rapidly  a  Pugilist  Thinks  and  Acts. 


between  the  second  and  the  third  gives  the  time  required 
for  the  fist  to  travel  the  distance  between  the  two  sticks. 

The  boxer  is  next  told  that  the  flag  will  be  jerked  to 
the  right  or  left  in  irregular  order  and  he  is  to  punch 
only  when  it  goes  to  the  left.  He  is  thus  obliged  to  dis- 
criminate and  choose.  Sparks  are  obtained  as  before, 
but  the  time  between  the  first  two  dots  is  longer  because 
two  extra  mental  acts  are  included. 

It  is  possible  to  use  not  only  men,  women,  children, 


Time  of  dis- 
crimination and 
choice. 


6o 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


athletes,  pugilists,  and  others  as  animals  for  experiment ; 

we  can  also  use  dogs  and  cats.     One  of  my  pupils  has 

contrived  a  similar  arrangement  for  measuring  how  fast 

How  fast  a  dog  a  dog  thinks.     The  general  plan  is  shown  in  Fig.  29. 

thinks 

The  results  cannot  yet  be  made  public,  as  it  is  the  rule 
of  the  laboratory  to  let  the  experimenter  speak  first. 
In  the  New  Haven  experiments  the  school  children 


Time  of  dis- 
crimination and 
choice  as  de- 
pending on  age. 


Fig.  29.    Measuring  how  Fast  a  Dog  Thinks. 

were  required  to  distinguish  between  two  colors,  reacting 
to  blue  and  not  to  red.  This  involved  the  mental  proc- 
esses of  discrimination  and  choice,  in  addition  to  simple 
reaction.  The  results  are  shown  in  Fig.  30.  The  figures 
at  the  bottom  indicate  the  ages ;  those  at  the  left  give  the 
number  of  hundredths  of  a  second  required  for  reaction 
with  discrimination  and  choice.  The  topmost  line  does 
not  concern  us  here. 


Thi7ikmg-  Tmie. 


6i 


The  figures  seem 


The  time  required  decreases  with  age.  On  the  whole, 
the  boys  and  girls  are  equally  quick,  the  differences  gen- 
erally being  too  small  to  be  worth  noticing.  It  might  be 
suggested  that,  since  boys  are  quicker  in  simple  reaction, 
they  must  take  a  longer  time  for  mere  discrimination  and 
choice  in  order  to  give  equal  totals, 
to  indicate  that  for 
the  more  involved 
mental  processes  the 
girls  are  quicker,  but 
I  hesitate  to  admit 
such  a  libel  on  my 
own  sex. 

Irvang  said  that 
Americans  worship 
only  one  god,  the 
Almighty  Dollar. 
He  was  wrong; 
there  is  a  mightier 
one,  the  Moloch  of 


BOJS  AND  GIRLS 

-BOYS 

QIBli 

ARITHMETICAI  MEAN. 


Fig.  30. 


Time  of  Thought  at  Various  Ages  in 
School  Children. 


Girls  and  boys 
compared. 


Time,  the  great 
independent  vari- 
able, is  the  only  force  over  which  we  can  gain  no  control. 

Man  can  annihilate  space  and  fight  power  with  power, 
but — tick,  tick,  tick — the  little  watch  counts  off  the  sec- 
onds, not  one  of  which  can  be  hindered  from  coming  or 
be  recalled  when  past. 

Time  is  the  most  precious  of  commodities.  No 
one  wants  a  six-hour  train  to  Boston  when  a  five- 
hour  train  is  at  hand.  Slow  horses  to  the  engine  give 
the  fire  a  fatal  opportunity.  Battles  have  been  gained 
by  the  quickness  of  the  cavalry.      Death  may  readily 


Mighty  time. 


Value  of  time. 


62  Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 

be  carried  at  the  sword's  point  of  a  quick  antagonist. 
Time  is  money.  Rapid  thought  and  quick  action 
sometimes  make  all  the  difference  between  success  and 
failure.  Every  thought  we  think,  every  act  we  perform, 
takes  time.  A  man  who  can  think  and  act  in  one  half 
the  time  that  another  man  can,  will  accumulate  mental 
or  material  capital  twice  as  fast.  If  we  could  think 
twice  as  fast  as  we  do,  we  would  live  twice  as  long,  al- 
though we  would  live  only  the  same  number  of  years. 
Country  people  think  more  slowly  than  city  people  ;  the 
uneducated  more  slowly  than  the  educated.  In  general  the 
Americans  are  very  rapid  thinkers.  To-day  the  mental 
processes  of  the  mass  of  the  people  go  at  a  much  more 
rapid  rate  than  they  did  a  few  centuries  ago.  The  mind 
has  been  educated  by  our  whole  civilization  to  act  more 
rapidly.  To-day  our  thoughts  travel  like  trolley-cars. 
The  difference  between  the  sluggish  Englishman  of 
Civilization  has  medieval  timcs  and  the  quick  Yankee  of  to-day  is  de- 
de^reasedthe      j-^j^^^^n^  ^^j^^  -^^  y^^^^  Twain' s  "  King  Arthur."      If  it 

°"^    ■  were  possible  to  take  a  man  of  two  centuries  ago  and 

bring  him  into  the  laboratory,  the  results  obtained  from 
experiments  upon  him  would  be  entirely  different  from 
those  obtained  from  one  of  the  students  of  to-day.  The 
reactions  of  the  student  would  be  much  more  rapid,  es- 
pecially the  complicated  ones.  A  great  deal  in  the  edu- 
cation of  children  is  to  reduce  their  reaction-times. 
When  the  country  boy  first  comes  into  the  schoolroom 
everything  he  does  takes  him  a  very  much  longer  time 
than  when  he  has  been  there  for  a  while,  especially  any 
complicated  act.  Arithmetic,  for  example,  is  simply  a 
matter  of  the  association  of  a  set  of  ideas.  We  give  just 
so  much  time  to  do  an  example.  When  that  time  is  over 
the  pencil  must  be  put  down,  the  slate  dropped.     The 


Thinking-  Time.  63 


child  who  is  slow  is  at  great  disadvantage.  Education  in 
arithmetic,  especially  mental  arithmetic,  has  for  its  object 
mainly  the  reducing  of  the  time  in  associating  ideas  ;  say 
one  half  toward  producing  a  firm  memory  of  the  associ- 
ations and  the  other  half  in  making  them  more  rapid. 

Rapidity  in  movement  and  thought  is  a  part  of  our  Education  of 
education  to  which  we  must  pay  some  attention.  Mental  '^^^^  '  ^' 
rapidity  is  increased  by  repetition,  provided  the  repeti- 
tion does  not  continue  long  enough  to  bring  opposing 
forces  into  play.  For  example,  the  oftener  we  repeat  a 
poem  from  memory,  the  more  rapidly  it  can  be  done, 
provided  we  do  not  become  fatigued. 

To  increase  the  rapidity  of  the  act  it  is  not  sufficient  Method  of 
to  simply  repeat  it  without  fatigue  ;  unless  there  is  pres-   ^^*'"'"S^- 
ent  a  conscious  or  unconscious  determination  to  change 
the  time  of  the  process,  there  is  no  reason  for  expecting 
it  to  change.     The  first  requisite  for  increase  in  rapidity 
is  thus  a  desire  for  such  an  increase. 

Let  it  be  required  to  increase  the  rapidity  with  which 
a  child  performs  his  arithmetical  associations.  If  allowed  arithmetic!  ^°"^ 
to  do  his  sums  in  any  time  he  pleased  to  take,  constant 
practice  might  not  cause  the  slightest  change  in  rapidity. 
If,  however,  he  were  stimulated  by  hearing  the  pencils 
of  his  comrades,  by  seeing  them  finish  before  him,  or  by 
the  general  influence  of  a  bright,  sunny  day,  he  might 
do  his  work  more  rapidly,  although  he  had  not  had  the 
slightest  intention  of  doing  so  or  perhaps  even  the 
knowledge  that  he  had  done  so.  Such  influences  might 
be  called  unconscious  motives.  By  a  conscious  motive 
we  would  mean  a  definite  intention  of  getting  the  sum 
done  more  quickly.  Our  general  experience  in  life  jus- 
tifies us  in  believing  that  a  conscious  motive  is  more  effi- 
cient than  an  unconscious  one. 


64 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Increased 
rapidity  in 
language- 
lessons. 


Where  the  gain 
lies. 


The  manner  in  which  rapidity  of  thought  is  increased 
by  practice  in  learning  a  language  has  been  made  the 
subject  of  experiment.  Ten  boys  were  taken  from  each 
class  of  a  high  school  and  were  asked  to  read  rapidly  the 
first  hundred  words  of  a  Latin  book.  The  number  of 
seconds  that  they  required  is  shown  in  the  following  list : 

Class  lo,  average  age    9,  average  time  262-^ 


"       9, 

"    II, 

135' 

"       8, 

"    12, 

lOO-^ 

"       7, 

"    13, 

89^ 

"       6, 

"    14, 

79' 

"       5, 

"    15, 

57' 

"       4> 

"    16, 

54' 

"       3, 

-    18, 

49' 

"       2,         *' 

"    19, 

48^ 

<<       I,         " 

"    22, 

43' 

The  lowest  class  knew  nothing  about  Latin,  the  rest 
had  begun  it  in  Class  9. 

When  the  same  children  were  tested  with  their  native 
language  the  results  were  vSuccessively  72-^,  55-^,  43-^,  37-^, 
39-^,  28-^,  27-^,  26-^,  25-^,  23-^.     There  was  a  similar  gain. 

Was  the  gain  due  to  general  gain  in  mental  rapidity  ? 
One  hundred  papers  of  five  familiar  colors  were  shown  and 
each  child  was  required  to  name  them.  The  average 
times  were  83-^,  66-^,  79-^,  66-^,  63-^,  56-^,  63-^,  63-=^,  54-^. 
There  had  been  a  general  gain  in  quickness  but  not 
nearly  so  great  a  gain  as  for  the  words.  A  study  of  the 
blunders  made  by  the  children  showed  that  in  the  next  to 
the  lowest  class  there  was  a  very  slight  tendency  to  grasp 
the  Latin  letters  as  words  ;  they  blundered  occasionally 
by  reading  a  similar  word  for  the  correct  one.  In  the 
succeeding  and  higher  classes  this  mistaking  of  words 
became  steadily  more  frequent  ;  they  had  been  trained  to 


Thinking-  Time.  65 

grasp  larger  groups  as  single  things  and  in  this  manner 
to  save  time  in  discrimination. 

This  same  ability  to  grasp  a  greater  quantity  of  matter  Language  in 
by  means  of  characteristic  marks,  whereby  the  details 
can  be  supplied  as  needed,  is  what  makes  the  difference 
between  English  and  Latin  in  the  composing  room. 
While  setting  up  English  the  compositor  works  by  the 
em,  that  is,  by  quantity  ;  while  setting  up  foreign  words 
he  works  by  the  hour,  as  such  work  is  very  slow. 

How  far  we  can  push  the  education  of  rapidity  in  all 
the  elements  that  make  up  thinking-time,  reaction-time,    cated  rapidity. 
and  action-time  can  be  seen  in  the  records  for  rapidity 
of  telegraphing  and  typewriting. 

By  careful  estimate  it  has  been  found  that  in  general 
press  matter  the  average  number  of  letters  per  word  is 
five,  and  that  the  average  number  of  vibrations  of  the 
key  in  the  formation  of  the  telegraphic  characters  is  five 
to  each  letter.  Thus  it  is  seen  that  there  are  twenty-five 
vibrations  of  the  key  in  the  formation  of  each  word. 
Now,  were  it  possible  for  an  operator  to  transmit  sixty 
words  per  minute,  he  would  make  one  word,  or  five  letters, 
per  second,  being  twenty-five  vibrations  of  the  key  per 
second. 

When  we    consider  that  the  telegraphic  alphabet  is 
made   up   of  dots   and   dashes   and   spaces    of  various  thought  and 
lengths,  and  that  these  almost  incredibly  rapid  vibrations  telegrapher, 
must  be  so  clear  and  clean  cut  as  to  be  easily  read  by  the 
ear,  we  can  form  an  approximate  idea  of  the  wonder  of 
such  an  achievement.     The  most  rapid  manipulator  in 
the  country  has  reached  a  speed  of  fifty-four  words  per 
minute,  which   is  about   23!  vibrations   of  the  key  per   record!*°"^  '^ 
second.     Expert  typo-telegraphers  can  receive  and  re- 
cord his  transmissions  with  ease. 


66  Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 

By  use  of  the  Phillips  system  of  code  words  an  expert 
transmitter  and  typo-telegrapher  can  handle  press  matter 
at  the  rate  of  from  sixty-five  to  seventy  words  per 
minute.  One  noted  telegrapher  claims  to  have  read  by 
sound  from  automatic  transmission  up  to  seventy  words 
per  minute,  which  is  in  the  neighborhood  of  thirty  vibra- 
tions of  the  instrument  per  second.  To  do  this  the  ear 
must  be  long  and  carefully  trained  to  be  able  to  distinguish 
and  translate  into  words  and  sentences  the  sounds  coming 
to  it  in  such  rapid  vibrations.  It  would  be  impossible  to 
read  from  a  transmission  much  beyond  this  speed. 


CHAPTER   V. 


STEADINESS    AND    CONTROL. 


Steadiness  of  action  may  be  steadiness  of  position 


Steadiness  of 


or  Steadiness  of  movement.      In  position  the  impulses  to    action. 
the  various  muscles  are  so  arranged  that  the  member  or 
the  body  remains  still.      In  movement  the  impulses  are 
varied  in  power  in  such  a  way  that  a  change  occurs. 
In  studying  action,  voluntary  or  involuntary,  we  need 


Fig.  31.    Taking  a  Record  of  Steadiness. 

to  have  some  method  of  recording  every  part  of  the  act.    Air  transmis- 
This  is  found  in  the  principle  of  air  transmission. 

In  investigations  of  the  steadiness  of  position  we  gen- 

67 


68 


Thmking^   Feeliyig^   Doing. 


The  capsules. 


The  record. 


erally  make  use  of  a  pair  of  capsules.  Each  one  con- 
sists of  a  little  metal  dish  covered  with  thin  rubber. 
From  one  dish  a  tube  leads  to  the  other.  A  very  light 
lever  is  placed  above  each  dish  ;  the  lever  carries  a 
light  plate  which  rests  on  the  rubber  top.  If  one  of 
the  levers  is  moved  downward,  as  by  the  hand  in  Fig. 
31,  the  rubber  will  be  pressed  in  and  the  air  will  be 
slightly  pressed  out  through  the  tube.  The  pressure 
will  pass  along  the  tube  to  the  other  capsule,  where  it 
will  bulge  the  rubber  top  and  will  make  the  other  lever 
move  upward.  When  the  lever  is  released,  the  spring 
will  draw  it  back,  the  air  will  be  drawn  in,  and  the  other 
lever  will  move  downward. 

To  make  a  record,  a  fine  metal  point  is  attached  to 
the  second  lever  and  is  made  to  write  on  a  surface  of 
smoke.      A  metal  cylinder  is  covered  with  paper  and  is 
then  smoked  in  a  gas  flame,  as  previously  described. 
The  most  frequently  used  cylinder  for  slow  movements 


Fig.  32.    Arrangement  of  Capsules  for  Steadiness  under  Guidance  of  the  Eye. 


Steadiness  of 
the  arm. 


is  a  clock-work  drum  of  the  kind  shown  in  Fig.  31. 
The  fine  point  of  the  second,  or  recording,  lever  is  made 
to  touch  the  surface  of  the  smoked  paper.  The  point 
then  writes  a  picture  (upside  down)  of  the  movement 
imparted  to  the  end  of  the  receiving  lever. 

Let  us  now  take  some  particular  problem,  such  as  the 
steadiness  of  the  arm,  guided  by  the  eye.     The  arrange- 


Steadiness  and  Coiitrol.  69 

ment  can  be  that  shown  in  Fig  32.  Every  shake  of  the 
arm  will  be  transmitted  to  the  recording  point  and  will 
be  scratched  in  the  smoke  on  the  drum.     Under  guid- 


Fig.  33.    A  Record  of  Steadiness. 

ance  of  the    eye  the  position  can    be    kept    the   same  ; 

whether  the  steadiness  increases  or  decreases  remains  to 

be  determined.     The  lever  of  the  receiving   capsule  is 

made  very  long.      Its  point  is  held  by  the  finger  opposite  under  guidance 

a  dot  on  a  card.      It  is  impossible  to  keep    the  point   °  ^  ^^^^' 

opposite  the  dot ;  there  is  constant  shaking. 

A  specimen  record  is  given  in  Fig.  33.  During  the 
time  between  the  two  vertical  strokes  the  attention  was 
disturbed  by  some  one  walking  around  the  room. 

Let  us  study  steadiness  in  a  concrete  case,  say  in  hold- 


Fig.  34.     Recording  a  Sportsman's  Unsteadiness. 


70 


Thinkings  Feelings   Doing. 


A  sportsman's 
steadiness. 


Steadiness  in 
standino:. 


Trembling  of 
the  hand. 


Trembling  of 
the  tongue. 


ing  a  gun.  The  sportsman  takes  his  position,  stand- 
ing, with  gun  aimed  at  the  target.  A  thread  hangs  down 
from  the  gun  with  a  small  sinker  at  the  end  to  keep  it 
stretched.  The  thread  is  given  one  turn  around  the  arm 
of  a  receiving  capsule,  as  seen  in  the  figure. 

The  method  is  a  wonderfully  convenient  one  and  can 

be  applied  to  a 
study  of  almost 
every  position  taken 
by  the  body.  By 
placing  the  arm  of 
the  receiving  cap- 
sule on  the  head,  as 
shown  in  Fig.  35,  a 
record  of  the  fluctu- 
ation in  height  can 
be  made. 

Persons  inclined 
to  loss  of  control 
over  their  muscles 
often  s|iow  symp- 
toms in  early  life.  It 
is   well  to   test   the 

Fig.  35.    Steadiness  in  Standing.  , .  -     , 

Steadiness  01  the 
hand  in  children.  A  very  convenient  method  of  study- 
ing the  trembling  of  the  hand  is  shown  in  Fig.  36.  The 
capsule  is  connected  with  the  recording  capsule  as  before. 

By  a  tongue-capsule,  as  in  Fig.  37,  we  are  able  to 
tell  how  still  the  tongue  can  be  held.  If  it  should  be 
proven  possible  by  the  trembling  of  the  tongue  in  child- 
hood to  foretell  which  persons  would  become  talkative  in 
later  life,  precautionary  measures  might  be  taken. 

The  most  interesting  fact  about  these  experiments  in 


Steadmess  and  Control,  71 


steadiness  is  that  the  will  is  to  have  a  steady  position  but  ^^jj  ^^  ^^^^^^^ 
the  execution  is  defective.     As  the  will  is  exerted  the  to  execution, 
steadiness  of  position  is  increased.     This  is  sometimes  so 
marked  as  to  be  visible  to  the  eye  directly.      I  have  seen 
the  scalpel  tremble  in  a  surgeon' s  hand  so  that  a  serious 


Steadiness  of 


Fig.  36.    Studying  the  Trembling  of  Fig.  37.    Studying  the  Stead- 

the  Hand.  iness  of  the  Tongue. 

accident  appeared  inevitable  ;  yet  when  the  supreme  mo- 
ment came  the  hand  guided  the  knife  with  admirable 
steadiness. 

Proceeding  from  steadiness  for  position  we  come  to 
the  question  of  steadiness  of  movements.  Owing  to  the  movements, 
difficulties  of  apparatus,  this  subject  has  not  received  so 
much  study  as  the  other.  There  are,  however,  several 
very  practical  and  simple  experiments  that  can  be  made. 

In  free-hand  drawing-  it  is  frequently  desirable  to  make 

■^  ,  .  Drawmg  a 

a  straight  line.  The  line  as  actually  made  is  always  straight  line. 
more  or  less  irregular.  I  once  proposed  the  following 
problem  :  Suppose  we  desire  to  draw  a  line  100*"*"  long, 
what  is  the  most  accurate  method  of  making  it  straight? 
As  it  was  most  Important  to  know  the  facts  for  school 
children,  the  experiments  were  performed  on  ten  boys. 
The  boys  all  sat  at  their  desks  in  just  the  same  po- 

.        -  -  •       1  1  1         r  Method  of 

sitions.     A  sheet  01   paper  seven  inches  long  by  lour  experiment, 
inches  wide  was  placed  before  each.      In  the  middle  of 
the  sheet  were  two  dots   100'""^  apart,  lengthwise  of  the 
paper.     At  a  given  signal  each  boy  drew  a  straight  line 


72 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


Results. 


Explanation. 


between  the  dots.  Afterwards  a  ruler  was  laid  on  each 
sheet  so  that  its  edge  cut  the  dots.  With  a  pair  of  di- 
viders the  greatest  deviation  of  the  line  drawn  from  the 
true  straight  line  was  found. 

In  the  first  sets  the  boys  sat  squarely  in  front  of  the 
desk,  holding  the  pencils  in  the  usual  way,  grasped  near 
the  middle.  The  line  was  drawn  with  a  single  movement 
of  the  pencil,  without  going-  over  it  a  second  time  or 
erasing.  The  first  line  drawn  was  horizontal,  /.  ^. , 
parallel  to  the  front  surface  of  the  body.  On  the  second 
set  of  papers  the  line  drawn  was  vertical,  the  other  con- 
ditions remaining  the  same.  In  the  third  set  the  line 
was  45°  to  the  right,  in  the  fourth  45°  to  the  left.  The 
positions  of  these  lines  can  be  thus  shown  :  • 


0^ 


■^     270°     ll    45°     /^ 


/ 


325^ 


xN 


The  facing  position  proved  to  be  more  favorable  for 
horizontal  and  vertical  lines  than  for  inclined  lines.  The 
right-side  position  is  also  more  favorable  for  horizontal 
and  vertical  than  for  45°  and  325°.  This  is  what  we 
might  expect  as  a  result  of  the  law  that  the  eye  moves 
more  easily  upward,  downward,  right,  and  left  (/.  <?. ,  ver- 
tically and  horizontally),  than  in  intermediate  positions. 

In  drawing  horizontal  lines  and  325°  lines  the  right- 
side  position  is  more  favorable  than  the  facing  position  ; 
for  the  others  facing  is  preferable.  This  is  perhaps  to 
be  explained  by  the  fact  that  the  forearm  swings  around 
the  elbow  in  a  curve  which  in  order  to  produce  a  straight 
line  must  be  compensated  by  a  backward  and  forward 
movement  of  the  upper  arm  around  the  shoulder.  In 
the  facing  position,  with  the  paper  directly  in  front,  the 
forearm  touches  the  body  at  the  start  and  the  hand  is 
bent  at  the  wrist.      As  the  arm  moves,  it  becomes  freer 


Steadiness  and  Control.  73 

and  a  more  natural  position  is  assumed.  This  change 
in  the  manner  of  carrying  the  arm  would  tend  to  intro- 
duce uncertainty  into  its  movements.  With  the  arm 
raised  upon  the  desk  in  the  right-side  position  it  is 
brought  clear  of  the  body,  and  the  line  can  be  executed 
in  one  sweep.  In  drawing  the  45°  line  the  arm  is  just 
as  free  in  the  facing  as  in  the  right-side  position  and  we 
find  little  difference  in  the  results.  In  drawing  the  ver- 
tical line  we  would  naturally  expect  much  greater  accu- 
racy when  the  motion  is  a-  simple  forward  or  backward 
movement  of  the  arm  around  the  shoulder,  as  in  the 
facing  position,  than  when  the  arm  has  to  undergo  com- 
plicated adjustment  with  the  elbow  raised.  Why  there 
should  be  a  difference  with  the  325°  line  it  seems  impos- 
sible to  say.  Both  positions,  facing  and  right  side,  are 
on  the  whole  equally  favorable  for  accuracy. 

Holding  the  pencil  far  from  the  point  is  in  general  the 

.       .  .  .        .  Advantage 

most  accurate  method  ;  near  the  pomt  is  as  accurate  as  of  various 
the  middle  grip.  With  the  pencil  far  from  the  point  the 
line  is  drawn  with  a  smaller  movement  of  the  hand, 
which  would  give  a  better  result  than  a  larger  movement 
requiring  adjustments  from  elbow  and  shoulder.  For 
horizontal  lines  the  far  grip  is  the  most  accurate  ;  for  45  ° 
the  same  is  true  ;  for  vertical  lines  the  middle  and  the 
far  grips  are  the  same,  the  near  grip  is  unfavorable  ;  for 
the  325°  line  the  near  grip  is  the  best,  the  far  grip  is 
next,  the  middle  grip  is  very  unfavorable.  That  the 
325°  line  forms  an  exception  to  the  advantages  of  the 
far  grip  and  is  much  less  regular  than  the  others,  is  evi- 
dently connected  with  the  awkward  contraction  of  the 
fingers  in  this  direction. 

Can  steadiness  be  increased  by  practice  ?     This  prob-   influence  of 
lem  can  be  answered  in  respect  to  the  hand.     The  ar-   Practice. 


74 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


The  steadiness- 
gauge. 


Making  the  ex- 
periment. 


rangement  for  measuring  steadiness  has  been  made  very 
simple,  involving  no  capsules  or  drums.  It  consists  of  a 
flat  block  of  hard  rubber  supported  vertically  by  a  rod. 
On  the  face  of  the  block  is  a  strip  of  brass  in  which  there 
are  five  hard  rubber  circles,  i™"^,  2™"^,  3™"^,  4"^™,  and 
^mm  \^  diameter.  The  edges  of  the  circles  are  flush 
with  the  brass.  The  object  is  to  touch  the  rubber  circle 
with  the  metal  point  at  the  end  of  a  stick  by  a  single 

steady  movement. 
Sufficient  unsteadi- 
ness of  the  hand 
will  cause  the  point 
to  touch  the  metal. 
With  the  same  circle 
the  steadiness  of  the 
hand  can  be  consid- 
ered to  be  directly 
proportional  to  the  percentage  of  successful  trials.  To 
indicate  when  the  metal  point  strikes  the  plate  instead 
of  the  circle,  an  electric  current  can  be  sent  from  one  pole 
of  a  battery  through  an  electric  bell  to  a  binding-post 
connected  with  the  metal  plate,  and  from  the  other  pole 
through  a  flexible  conductor  to  the  metal  point.  Any 
contact  of  the  point  with  the  plate  will  cause  the  bell  to 
ring. 

In  making  the  experiment  the  plate  is  set  up  in  front 
of  the  person  experimented  upon.  The  pointer  is 
grasped  in  the  middle  like  a  lead  pencil  ;  the  forearm  is 
rested  on  a  cushion  at  the  edge  of  the  table  and  the  trial 
is  made  by  a  single  steady  movement  under  guidance  of 
the  eye  (Fig.  39). 

A  series  of  experiments  on  the  subject  of  steadiness 
was  lately  carried  out  in  my  laboratory.      The  first  set 


Fig.  38.    Steadiness-gauge. 


Steadiness  and  Control. 


75 


consisted  of  twenty  experiments  with  the  left  hand  ;  the 
result  was  fifty  per  cent  of  successful  trials.      Immediately   Results, 
thereafter  twenty  experiments  were  made  with  the  right 


Fig.  39.     Measuring  Steadiness  and  Attention. 

hand,  with  the  result  of  sixty  per  cent  of  successful  trials. 
On  the  following  day  and  on  each  successive  day,  two 
hundred  experiments  were  taken  with  the  right  hand, 
the  same  conditions  in  regard  to  time,  bodily  condition, 
and  position  in  making  the  experiments  being  maintained 
as  far  as  possible.  The  percentage  of  successful  trials 
ran  as  follows  :  61,  64,  65,  75,  74,  75,  82,  79,  78,  88. 
The  increase  in  accuracy  is  represented  in  the  curve  in 
Fig.  40.  . 

On  the  tenth  day  the  left  hand  was  tested  with  twenty 
experiments  as  before,  with  seventy-five  per  cent  of  sue-  education, 
cessful  trials,  thus  showing  an  increase  of  twenty  per 
cent  without  practice  in  the  time  during  which  the  right 
hand  had  gained  as  shown  by  the  figures  above.  This 
curious  process  I  have  ventured  to  call  "cross-edu- 
cation. ' ' 

The  question  of  the  possibility  of  gaining  in  steadiness 


Cross- 


76 


Thinking ,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Kindergarten 
work. 


Steadiness  in 
singing. 


Method  of  ex- 
periment. 


by  practice  is  thus  definitely  settled.  We  find  also  that 
the  left  hand  gains  by  practice  of  the  right. 

Let  us  notice  in  passing  how  much  these  experiments 
resemble  the  cork-work,  bead-work,  perforating,  and 
weaving  of  the  kindergarten,  and  the  sewing  of  higher 
classes. 

The  pitch  of  a  tone  sung  from  the  throat  depends  on 
the  tightness  with  which  the  vocal  cords  are  stretched 
by  the  muscles  of  the  larynx.     If  a  singer  can  keep  these 


/  Z3  i-         S         i         7         Z  i         to 

Fig.  40.     Result  of  Educating  Attention  to  the  Arm. 

muscles  steady  in  position,  the  tone  remains  the  same  ; 
if  he  allows  them  to  change  »ver  so  little  the  tpne 
changes. 

A  means  for  studying  the  accuracy  of  singing  a  tone, 
and  keeping  it,  is  found  in  the  gas-capsule  and  mirror- 
tuning-fork.  The  gas-capsule  consists  of  a  little  box 
(Fig.  41)  divided  into  two  parts  by  a  thin  rubber  mem- 
brane. A  gas  pipe  leads  to  one  part  and  a  small  burner 
is  attached.  The  person  sings  into  the  other  part. 
Every  vibration  of  the  voice  shakes  the  membrane  and 


Steadifiess  and  Coyitrol. 


11 


makes  the  little  flame  bob  up  and  down  too  rapidly  to  be 
seen.  This  flame  is  placed  in  front  of  a  tuning-fork 
having  a  little  mirror  on  one  end.     The  tuning-fork  is  set 


Fig.  41.    Testing  Steadiness  in  Singing.    The  Unison, 

going  and  the  person  sings  the  same  tone.     A  curved 
flame  with  a  single  point  appears  in  the  mirror. 

Any  inaccuracy  or  change  in  the  pitch  of  the  singing 
makes  the  picture  rotate  in  the  mirror.  If  it  rotates  in 
the  way  the  flame  points,  the  person  sings  too  low  ;  if 
backwards,  then  too  high.  If  the  singer  is  only  a  trifle 
wrong,  the  rotation  is  slow  ;  a  poor  singer  makes  the 
picture  fly  around  at  all  sorts  of  speeds. 

The  apparatus  can  do  more  than  this.  Suppose  the 
fork  is  tuned  to  middle  C.  Then  let  the  person  sing 
the  tones  indicated  by  the  quarter-notes,  the  half-note 


t 


F 


t 


^ 


i 


t 


T  T  T  T    T  T 


Effect  of 
unsteadiness. 


78 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Results  for 
various 
intervals  of 
pitch. 


Indicating  the  tone  of  the  fork.  When  the  unison  is 
sung,  a  flame  with  a  single  point  is  seen.  When  the 
octave  is  sung,    a  double-pointed  flame  appears   (Fig. 


Fig.  42.    Singing  the 
Octave. 


Fig.  43.    Singing  the 
Duodecime. 


Fig.  44.    Singing  the 
Fifth. 


42).  For  the  duodecime  we  get  three  points  (Fig.  43); 
for  the  double  octave  four  points.  These  points  seem  to 
be  upright,  but  for  musical  intervals,  such  as  the  fifth, 
the  pointed  flames  are  twisted  together.     For  the  fifth 


Fig.  45.    Singing  the  Fourth. 


Fig.  46.    Singing  the  Third. 


we  see  three  points  twisted  as  in  Fig.  44  ;  for  the  fourth 
we  get  Fig.  45  ;  for  the  third,  Fig.  46. 

When  these  intervals  are  properly  sung  the  flames  ap- 
pear sharp  and  steady  ;  any  inaccuracy  causes  rotation. 
The  apparatus  thus  tells  directly  how  steadily  the  singer 
maintains  his  pitch. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


POWER    AND    WILL. 


What  is  the  relation  between  the  force  of  will  and 
the  force  of  action  ?     What  was  the  difference  between  ^    .„ 

Force  of  will 

Samson  slayins;-  the  lion  and  Samson  shorn  of  his  locks  ?  and  force  of 

/       ^  ,  action. 

Was  the  will  the  same  in  both  cases  ?  At  one  moment 
we  will  to  grip  the  pencil  tightly,  at  the  next  loosely  ;  in 
the  first  case  it  cannot  be  taken  from  us,  in  the  second  it 
readily  slips.     Does  the  act  correspond  to  the  will  ? 

We  can,  at  least,  measure  one  thing,  namely,  the  force 
of  the  act.  Numerous  dynamometers — as  the  instru-  dynamometer. 
ments  thereto  are  called — have 
been  invented.  The  simplest,  pos- 
sibly the  best,  form  of  a  dynamom- 
eter is  an  ordinary  spring-scale. 
An  arrangement  for  studying  the 
strength  of  pressure  between 
thumb  and  forefinger  is  shown  in 
Fig.  47.  The  iron  frame  carries  a 
spring-scale  of  the  appropriate 
strength.  The  thumb  is  placed  on 
the  cork  and  the  finger  on  the 
hook  of  the  scale.  When  the  two 
are  pressed  together  the  pointer 
on  the  scale  shows  the  amount  of 

force  exerted.      Spring-scales  of  various  strength  can  be 
used.       Dynamometers  have   been  constructed  for  the 


Fi^'.  47.  Spring  Dynamometer. 


79 


8o 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


Accuracy  in 

exerting 

power. 


Use  of  the 
dynamometer. 


Results  for  the 
whole  hand- 
grip. 


hand,  foot,  knee,  extension  of  the  two  arms,  Hfting  by 
the  back,  and  so  on.  They  are  all,  I  think  I  can  say, 
merely  rough  instruments  for  testing  and  have  never 
been  developed  into  scientific  apparatus. 

How  accurately  can  we  exert  our  force  of  will  ? 

When  on  his  return  home  Ulysses  desired  to  punish 
the  insolence  of  the  beggar,  Irus,  by  inflicting  a  severe 
blow,  yet  feared  lest  the  well-known  power  of  his  arm 
would  betray  him  if  he  put  forth  his  whole  strength,  he 
deliberated  on  the  amount  of  force  to  be  employed, 

"  Whether  to  strike  him  lifeless  to  the  earth 
At  once,  or  fell  him  with  a  measured  blow," 

and  decided  to  deal  one  which  would  only  fracture  the 
jaw.  This  was  evidently  a  very  fine  regulation  of  the 
amount  of  exertion. 

As  a  matter  of  experiment  let  us  determine  the  accuracy 
for  the  thumb-and-finger-grip  with  the  dynamometer  of 
Fig.  47.  The  swinging  stop  at  the  back  is  so  fixed  by  the 
collar  that  when  the  stop  extends  across  the  frame,  the 
hook  strikes  and  hinders  further  movement.  The  move- 
ment is  arranged  to  stop  at,  say,  one  pound  or  500  grams.* 
The  person  is  seated  with  the  eyes  closed.  The  stop  is 
swung  on  and  the  pressure  is  exerted  till  the  hook  strikes. 
This  is  a  pressure  of  500  grams.  The  finger  is  released, 
the  stop  is  turned  back,  and  the  experiment  is  repeated. 
As  the  person  finds  no  hindrance,  he  stops  when  he 
thinks  he  is  exerting  the  same  force  as  before.  The 
actual  position  of  the  pointer  is  read  off  and  the  error  is 
noted.  Suppose  he  stops  at  495^;  he  then  makes  an 
error  of—  5^. 

Experiments  with  the  whole  squeeze  of  the  hand  indi- 
cate that,  if  on  an  average  a  man   makes  a  mistake  of 

*  In  scientific  work  and  in  civilized  countries  the  gram  is  the  unit  of  weight. 


Power  and    Will. 


twenty  grams  on  a  weight  of  200  grams,  he  will  make 
one  of  30S  on  400^,  40^^  on  800^^,  and  46^  on  1 6ooS.  As 
the  weight  grows  larger,  the  actual  amount  of  the  aver- 
age error  (or  average  mistake)  increases  ;  thus  it  is  20^^ 
on  200S  and  46S  on  i6oo§^.  But  the  proportion  of  the 
error  is  not  increased  or  even  the  same,  but  is  decreased  ; 
20S  is  a  much  larger  part  of  200^  than  46^^  of  1 600^. 


MUSCLE  SENSE 


Fig.  48.    Decrease  of  Inaccuracy  ofWeight-judgments  in  School  Children 
of  Successive  Ages. 

A  method  of  making  similar  experiments  with  the  arm   "Muscle 

sense 

is  to  lift  cylindrical  weights  between  thumb  and  finger. 
The  weights  are  sorted  into  two  groups,  those  that  ap- 
pear the  same  as  the  standard  used  and  those  that  appear 
different.  The  amount  of  difference  that  passes  unno- 
ticed gives  an  idea  of  the  accuracy  of  the  judgment. 
This  is  generally  said  to  be  a  judgment  by  the  * '  muscle 
sense." 

Up  to  this  point  we  have  experimented  on  the  force  of  Force  of  act 
the  voluntary  act  and  have  said  nothing  about  the  rela-  win. 
tion  between  the  force  of  will  and  the  act  itself  The 
force  of  the  act  we  have  measured  in  pounds  or  grams. 
Will,  not  being  a  mechanical  process,  cannot  be  meas- 
ured by  any  physical  force  ;  it  can  be  measured  only  in 
terms  of  will. 


82 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Two  acts  of 
equal  force. 


Neglect  of 
small  differ- 


Cultivation  of 
accuracy  of 
force. 


By  making  use  of  the  same  method  of  reasoning  as  in 
regard  to  time  we  can  draw  a  general  conclusion  in  re- 
gard to  the  force  of  act  as  dependent  on  the  force  of  will. 
Suppose  we  will  to  pull  with  the  two  hands  with  just  the 
same  force  ;  do  the  results  differ  ? 

To  solve  the  problem  we  use  two  dynamometers.  The 
person  experimented  upon  squeezes  with  the  right  hand 
and  the  left  hand  with  what  he  considers  equal  force. 
On  looking  at  the  scale  the  records  are  read  and  the  dif- 
ference noted.  Here  are  some  I  have  obtained.  The 
+  indicates  that  the  right  hand  was  stronger,  the  —  the 
same  for  the  left  :  each  record  is  the  average  of  ten  ex- 
periments. 


A.  F. ,  janitor, 

M.  S.,  woman, 

W.  S. ,  girl,  31  years 


—  8.5  ounces 

-  7-4  " 
+  0.5  " 
-\-  1.2       " 


Strongest 
possible  effort. 


We  see  that  although  the  will  is  apparently  alike  in 
both  cases  the  acts  are  not.  Nevertheless,  since  the  dif- 
ference is  a  small  fraction  of  the  force  of  act,  we  can  say 
that  within  corresponding  limits  the  force  of  will  can  be 
considered  to  be  indicated  by  the  force  of  act.  For  most 
of  the  points  we  are  about  to  consider  we  can  take  any 
differences  in  the  force  of  act  as  representing  correspond- 
ing differences  in  force  of  will. 

The  importance  of  a  cultivation  of  accuracy  of  force  in 
making  an  effort  is  known  to  those  who  play  ball,  bil- 
liards, tennis,  bagatelle,  or  quoits.  The  smith  and  the 
gold-worker  must  hit  with  just  the  right  intensity.  The 
proper  force  in  the  breathing  movements  is  what  the 
speaker  and  the  singer  have  to  learn. 

The  strongest  possible  effort  has  received  more  atten- 
tion than  the  accuracy  of  effort.      In  using  the  dynamom- 


Power  and    Will. 


83 


eter  for  these  experiments  the  spring  is  given  free  play 
and  the  effort  is  made  as  strong  as  the  person  can  make  it. 

The  greatest  power  obtainable  with  a  determined  effort 
of  will  varies  from  the  strength  of  Hercules  to  the  feeble- 
ness of  an  invalid.  The  actual  amount  of  force  obtain- 
able from  various  persons  is  a  problem  of  anthropology, 
with  which  we  are  not  concerned  ;  we  shall  use  the  force 
of  action  as  a  means  of  studying  will  power. 

The  greatest  possible  effort  depends  on  the  general 
mental  condition.  The  greatest  possible  effort  is  greater 
on  the  average  among  the  intelligent  Europeans  than 
among  the  Africans  or  Malays.  It  is  greater  for  intelli- 
gent mechanics  than  for  common  laborers  who  work  ex- 
clusively, but  unintelligently,  with  the  hands.  Intellec- 
tual excitement  increases  the  power.  A  lecturer  actually 
becomes  a  stronger  man  as  he  steps  on  the  platform.  A 
schoolboy  hits  harder  when  his  rival  is  on  the  same  play- 
ground. A  bear's  fear  for  the  safety  of  her  cubs  might 
well  be  considered  proportional  to  the  number  of  pounds 
difference  in  the  force  of  her  blow.  I  venture  to  suggest 
that  the  difference  between  the  greatest  possible  effort 
when  alone  and  the  greatest  possible  effort  when 
before  a  roomful  of  ladies  be  used  as  the  measure  of  a 
young  man's  vanity. 

The  amount  of  force  corresponding  to  the  greatest  pos- 
sible effort  is  increased  by  practice.  It  is  incredible  to 
me  how  in  face  of  our  general  experience  of  gymnasium 
work  some  writers  can  assert  that  practice  makes  no 
change  in  the  greatest  possible  effort.  At  any  rate,  in 
experiments  made  under  my  direction  the  change  could 
be  steadily  traced  day  by  day. 

Curiously  enough,  this  increase  of  force  is  not  con- 
fined to  the  particular  act.      In  the  experiments  referred 


Dependence 
on  mental 
condition. 


Effect  of 
practice. 


Cross- 
education  in 
power. 


84 


Thinking,   Feeliyig,   Doing. 


Physical 
exercise  and 
will  power. 


Strength  and 
will. 


Changes  in 
strength. 


to,  the  greatest  possible  effort  in  gripping  was  made  on 
the  first  day  with  the  left  hand  singly  and  then 
with  the  right  hand,  ten  times  each.  The  records 
were  :  for  the  left,  15  pounds,  for  the  right,  15  pounds. 
Thereafter,  the  right  hand  alone  was  practiced  nearly 
every  day  for  eleven  days,  while  the  left  hand  was  not 
used.  The  right  hand  gained  steadily  day  by  day  ;  on 
the  twelfth  day  it  recorded  a  grip  of  25  pounds.  The 
left  hand  recorded  on  the  same  day  a  grip  of  21  pounds. 
Thus  the  left  hand  had  gained  six  pounds,  or  more  than 
one  third,  by  practice  of  the  other  hand. 

A  great  deal  has  been  said  of  the  relation  of  physical 
exercise  to  will  power.  I  think  that  what  I  have  said 
sufficiently  explains  how  we  can  use  the  force  of  act  as 
an  index  of  will  power.  It  is  unquestionable  that  gym- 
nastic exercise  increases  the  force  of  act.  The  con- 
clusion seems  clear  ;  the  force  of  will  for  those  particular 
acts  must  be  increased.  It  has  often  been  noticed  that 
an  act  will  grow  steadily  stronger  although  not  the 
slightest  change  can  be  seen  in  the  muscle. 

Of  course,  I  do  not  say  that  the  developed  muscle 
does  not  give  a  greater  result  for  the  same  impulse  than 
the  undeveloped  one  ;  but  I  do  claim  that  much  of  the 
increase  or  decrease  of  strength  is  due  to  a  change  in 
will  power.  For  example,  no  one  would  say  that  San- 
dow,  the  strong  man,  has  a  more  powerful  will  than  any- 
body else.  But  Sandow's  strength  varies  continually, 
and,  although  part  of  this  variation  may  be  due  to 
changes  in  the  muscles,  a  large  portion  is  due  to  a  change 
in  force  of  will.  When  Sandow  is  weak,  make  him 
angry  and  note  the  result. 

The  power  exerted  varies  according  to  what  we  hear, 
feel,  or  see.    Music,  colors,  emotions,  change  our  strength. 


Power  a7id   Will. 


85 


With  the  thumb-and-finsfer-e:rip  the  o^reatest  pressure 

•        .  ,  -117-1  Influence  of 

I  can  exert  during  silence  is  eight  pounds.     When  some   music. 
one  plays  the  giants'    motive  from  the  Rheingold  my 


grip   shows    8^    pounds.      The   slumber   motive   from 
the  Walkiire  reduces  the  power  to  7^   pounds.     Let 


me  suggest  to  my  readers  that  they  rig  up  a  simple 
dynamometer  and  keep  it  beside  the  piano  in  order  to 
measure  the  stimulating  power  of  each  composition. 
The  effect  of  martial  music  on  soldiers  is  well  known. 
The  Marseillaise  was  a  force  in  the  French  Revolution. 
Just  how  much  of  the  inspiriting  effect  is  due  to  the 
rhythm,  the  time,  the  melody,  and  the  harmony,  has  not 
been  determined.  A  very  great  deal  depends  on  the 
pitch.  Plato  emphasizes  the  influence  of  the  proper 
music  on  the  formation  of  character.  He  goes  no  further 
than  to  specify  the  general  scales  in  which  music  should 
be  written.  The  high  Lydian  is  plaintive,  the  Ionian 
and  Lydian  are  soft  and  convivial,  the  Dorian  is  the 
music  of  courage,  and  the  Phrygian  of  temperance.  Aris- 
totle agrees  in  general  but  considers  the  Phrygian  music 
as  exciting  and  orgiastic.    It  has  long  been  supposed  that 


Plato  on  the 
character  of 
Greek  music. 


86 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Probable  ex- 
planation. 


Influence  of 
pitch. 


the  difference  among  the  scales  was  one  of  arrangement 
of  the  intervals  within  the  octave,  corresponding  to  the 
major  and  the  minor,  but  the  more  recent  opinion  is  that ' 
the  difference  is  one  of  pitch.     The  Lydian  is  a  tone  to 

a  tone  and  a  half 
higher  than  the 
Phrygian,  and  the 
Dorian  is  a  tone  be- 
low the  Phrygian. 
The  Dorian  is 
neither  too  high  nor 
too  low,  and  ex- 
""        '°        *'        *"'        "^         ^''       presses     a     ma^ly 

Fig.  49.   Influence  of  Pitch  on  the  Power  of  Grasp.       1 

It  might  be  suggested  that  the  special  melodies  associ- 
ated with  each  scale  may  have  had  much  to  do  with  the 
case.  Nevertheless  it  has  been  proven  that  the  pitch 
itself  has  an  effect  on  the  greatest  strength  of  grip.      Fig. 


Fig,  50.     Dynamograph. 


49  shows  the  number  of  pounds  for  one  person's  hand- 
grip as  the  scale  was  run  up  on  the  piano. 

In  order    to    indicate    the    pressure    continuously  the 


Power  a7id   Will. 


87 


dynamometer  can  be  arranged  in  connection  with  the  Dynamograph. 
capsule  of  the  graphic  method.  One  such  arrangement 
is  shown  in  Fig.  50.  As  the  hand  squeezes  the  dyna- 
mometer the  pointer  on  the  drum  moves  to  one  side. 
Every  fluctuation  in  the  squeeze  is  shown,  and  when  the 
smoked  paper  is  taken  from  the  drum  and  varnished  we 
have  a  complete  record.  Such  a  tracing  from  an  hysteri- 
cal person  squeezing  as  hard  as  possible  is  shown  in  Fig. 

51- 

The  power  of  squeeze   is   changed  by  various  disturb- 


Influence  of 
noises. 


Fig.  51.    Record  of  Strongest  Grip  of  the  Hand  by  an  Hysterical  Person. 

ances.  The  sudden  jerks  in  the  line  of  Fig.  51  are  the 
results  of  the  ringing  of  a  gong.  The  sudden  increases 
in  power  occur  each  time  when  the  gong  is  struck. 

Successive  single  contractions  can  also  be  registered  on 


Fig,  52.     Record  of  Successive  Squeezes  during  Ringing  of  a  Gong  and 
during  Silence. 


the  drum.  Fig.  52  shows  the  successive  squeezes  of  one 
person  with  the  hand — first  while  a  gong  was  being 
sounded,  then  in  silence.  The  use  of  the  gongs  on  the 
trolley-cars  as  a  strengthening  tonic  might  be  suggested 
to  physicians. 

The  colors  also  affect  the  squeeze  with  some  persons,    colors. 


88 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Influence  of 
smell. 


especially  hysterical  people.  The 
strongest  hand-squeeze  in  the  case  of 
one  such  subject  is  shown  in  Fig.  53.     . 

This  suggests  a  new  principle  in  the 
selection  of  colors  for  the  house,  for 
uniforms,  etc.  We  know  the  stimulating 
effect  of  the  red  flag  of  anarchy  and  the 
soothing  influence  of  a  dark  blue  sofa. 
A  red  bedquilt  is  a  contradiction. 

Tastes    and     smells     have    different 


Fig.  54.     Influence  of  Musk. 


Fig-  53-  Strongest 
Contractions  while 
Looking  at  Differ- 
ent Colors:  g,  green; 
b,  blue ;  o,  orange ; 
y,  yellow  ;  r,  red  ; 
V,  violet. 


effects.  Fig.  54  shows  the  effect  of 
musk  on  the  power  of  a  tired  person. 
Tobacco  has  a  stimulating  effect. 

Joy  and  anger  increase  the  power, 
sorrow  and  fright  decrease  it.  An  entertaining  novel  is 
a  will-stimulant ;  a  prosy  text-book  actually  weakens  us. 


What  is 


CHAPTER    VII. 

ATTENTION. 

AT  -  TENtioii  !  Why  do  you  suppose  such  a  com- 
mand is  necessary  to  a  company  of  soldiers  or  a  class  of 
boys?  Would  they  not  do  as  well  without  attention?  attention? 
Of  course  not  ;  an  inattentive  or  unexpectant  company 
of  soldiers  will  start  to  march  in  utter  disorder  or  will 
ground  arms  with  a  running  fusilade  of  bangs  instead  of 
a  single  thump. 

What  is  this  difference  between  attention  and  inatten- 
tion, between  expectation  and  surprise?  How  can  we 
turn  inattention  into  attention  ? 

In  the  first  place,  What  is  attention  ?  It  is  a  very  sad 
fact,  but  I  cannot  tell  what  it  is.  The  innumerable  psy- 
chologies attempt  to  define  it,  but  when  they  have  defined 
it,  you  are  sure  to  know  just  as  much  about  it  as  before. 

When  you  first  move  into  a  new  neighborhood,  you 
notice  every  house,  every  tree,  almost  every  stone,  as 
you  pass  to  and  fro.  As  you  grow  accustomed  to  the 
surroundings,  you  gradually  cease  to  notice  them.  Fi- 
nally you  pay  so  little  heed  to  them  that  you  are  unable 
at  the  end  of  a  walk  to  tell  what  you  have  just  seen  by 
the  way.  This  fact  is  expressed  by  saying  that  at  first 
you  attended  to  what  you  saw  and  afterwards  did  not. 

I   can  illustrate  this  process   of  attention    in    another 
way.     You  are  now  reading  the  sentences  on  this  page  ;   iiiustrat^ion. 
you  are  giving  full  attention  to  what  I  say.      But  at  the 

89 


Illustration. 


90 


Thi7iki?ig,   Peeling,   Doing. 


Focus  and  field 
of  attention. 


Illustration 
from  the 
camera. 


same  time  you  are  receiving  touch  impressiorxS  from  the 
book  in  your  hand  and  from  the  clothes  you  wear  ;  you 
hear  the  wagons  on  the  street  or  the  howHng  of  the  wind 
and  the  rusthng  of  the  trees  ;  you  smell  the  roses  that 
your  hostess  has  placed  on  the  table.  Now  that  I  have 
mentioned  them  you  notice  them — or  pay  attention  to 
them.  When  you  were  attending  to  what  you  were 
reading  they  were  only  dimly  present. 

I  will  suppose  that  you  are  attending  to  what  you  are 
reading  ;  all  those  sounds,  touches,  smells,  etc. ,  are  only 
dimly  in  the  field  of  your  experience  while  these  words 
are  in  the/ocus  (or  burning-point)  of  experience. 

Probably  you  can  gain  a  good  idea  of  the  difference 

between  the  focus 
and  the  field  of  pres- 
ent experience  by 
taking  an  analogy 
from  the  art  of  pho- 
tography. Ask 
\'Our  friend  the  ama- 
teur photographer 
to  bring  around  his 
camera.  He  sets  it 
up  and  lets  you  look 
at  the  picture  on  the 
ground  glass.  The 
glass  is  adjusted  so 
that  the  picture  of  a  person  in  the  middle  of  the  room  is 
sharply  seen  ;  all  the  other  objects  are  somewhat  blurred, 
depending  on  their  distance  from  him.  Change  the 
position  of  the  glass  by  a  trifle.  The  person  becomes 
blurred  and  some  other  object  becomes  sharp.  Thus  for 
each  position  of  the  glass  there  is  an  object,  or  a  group 


Fig.  55,     Focus  and  Field  of  Attention. 


Attention.  91 

of  objects,  distinctly  seen  while  all  other  objects  are 
blurred.  To  make  one  of  the  blurred  objects  distinct, 
the  position  of  the  glass  must  be  changed  and  the  for- 
merly distinct  object  becomes  blurred. 

In  like  manner,  we  fully  attend  to  one  object  or  group 
of  objects  at  a  time  ;  all  others  are  only  dimly  noticed. 
As  we  turn  our  attention  from  one  object  to  another 
what  was  formerly  distinct  becomes  dim. 

The  illustration  with  the  camera  is  not  quite  complete,  instability  of 
You  can  keep  the  objects  quiet  in  the  room  but  you  can-  atfent5on.° 
not  keep  your  thoughts  still.  The  mental  condition 
would  be  more  nearly  expressed  by  pointing  the  camera 
down  a  busy  street.  You  focus  first  on  one  thing,  then 
on  another.  The  things  in  focus  pass  out  of  it,  others 
come  in.  Only  by  special  effort  can  you  keep  a  moving 
person  or  wagon  in  focus  for  more  than  a  moment. 

Instead  of  talking  all  around  attention,  as  psycholo- 
gists have  been  doing  for  two  thousand  years,  let  us  ask 
a  few  practical  questions.  The  possibility  of  answering 
some  of  them  arises  from  the  fact  that  we  can  now  ex- 
periment on  attention.  The  impossibility  of  answering 
the  others  is  due  to  the  lack  of  psychological  laboratories 
and  trained  psychologists  to  make  more  experiments. 

In  the  first  place,  How  many  objects  can  be  attended  Extent  of 
to  at  a  time  ?  Objects  can,  of  course,  be  more  or  less  ^"^"t'°"- 
complicated.  A  house,  for  example,  is  a  single  object 
if  we  do  not  look  into  the  details ;  it  is  a  multitude  if 
we  count  the  windows,  doors,  roof,  chimneys,  etc.,  as 
separate  objects.  By  the  word  "object,"  then,  we  will 
understand  any  thing  or  group  of  things  regarded  as 
a  single  thing.  Thus,  the  natural  tendency  would  be  to 
regard  the  letters  M  X  R  V  as  four  objects,  four  let- 
ters,  whereas  MORE  would  be  regarded  as  one  object, 


92 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Dohig. 


a  word,  unless  we  stop  to  consider  the  letters  separately. 

Experiments  are  made  by  exposing  pictures,  letters, 
words,  etc. ,  to  view  for  a  brief  time.  One  way  of  doing 
this  is  to  prepare  slides  for  the  projection-lantern  and 
throw  the  view  on  the  screen  for  an  instant. 

A  more  convenient  way  is  to  fix  the  pictures  or  letters 
on  cards  or  to  prepare  a  table  on  which  actual  objects 
are  placed.  A  photographic  camera  with  a  quick  shut- 
ter is  aimed  at  them.  The  person  experimented  upon  is 
so  placed  that  he  cannot  see  the  objects  but  can  see  the 
ground  glass. 

If  you  cannot  use  a  lens  with  shutter,  the  experiment 
can  be  tried  roughly  in  the  manner  explained  on  page 
22  ;  the  time  of  sight  of  the  card  must,  however,  be  less 
than  one  tenth  of  a  second. 

Experiments  of  this  kind  show  that  four,  and  some- 
times even  five,  disconnected  letters,  numerals,  colors, 
etc. ,  can  be  grasped  at  the  same  time.  When  the  ob- 
jects are  so  arranged  that  they  enter  into  combinations 
that  make  complex  objects,  many  more  can  be  grasped. 
Thus,  two  words  of  two  syllables,  each  word  containing 
six  letters,  can  be  grasped  as  readily  as  four  single 
letters. 

This  ability  to  grasp  and  remember  complicated  ob- 
jects increases  with  age.  Children  seem  to  grasp  only 
the  details  separately  and  to  be  unable  to  gain  a  general 
view  with  the  parts  in  proper  subordination.  In  draw- 
ing a  horse  unskilful  persons  will  begin  with  the 
head,  proceed  with  the  back,  then  the  rear  legs,  etc., 
thinking  of  only  one  thing  at  a  time  ;  the  result  is  generally 
that  the  various  parts  are  out  of  all  proportion.  The 
details  are  often  so  isolated  in  the  child's  mind  that  he 
will  draw  parts   entirely    separated    from  one  another. 


Attention,  93 

This  is  the  case  with  the  child  that  drew  an  oblong  and 
a  square  separately  to  stand  for  the  two  sides  of  a  box 
seen  in  perspective. 

Let  us  consider  first  the  methods  of  forcing  attention  to   Methods  of 
an  object,  or,  as  is  frequently  said,  of  forcing  the  object  attentfon. 
into  attention. 

The  first  law  I  shall  state  is  :      Big-ness  reg-ulates  the  The  law  of 

bigness. 

force  of  attention.  Young  children  are  attracted  to  ob- 
jects by  their  bigness. 

Advertisers  make  it  a  business  to  study  the  laws  of  x,'sed  in 
attention.  American  advertisers  in  the  past  and  also  ^  vertismg. 
largely  in  the  present  rely  chiefly  on  the  law  of  bigness. 
They  know  that  one  large  advertisement  is  worth  a  mul- 
titude of  small  ones.  A  certain  New  York  life  insur- 
ance company  puts  up  the  biggest  building  ;  The  New 
York  World  builds  the  highest  tower.  Churches  fre- 
quently vie  in  building,  not  the  most  beautiful,  but  the 
largest  house  of  worship. 

Curiously  enough,  the  rage  for  notice  even  invades  the 
solemnity  of  death.  Joseph  Frank  was  not  content  to 
have  his  ashes  rest  in  peace  on  the  shore  of  the  Lake  of 
Como  ;  he  must  erect  a  pyramid  to  attract  the  attention 
of  travelers.  Richard  Smith  lately  bequeathed  $500,000 
for  a  big  memorial  arch  in  Philadelphia. 

Bigness,  however,  costs.    .The  art  of  successfully  ap-   Thecostof 
plying  this  law  of  bigness  lies  in  finding  the  point   at  attenUon\ 
which  any  increase  or  any  decrease  in  size  lessens  the  ^'§"^3 
profit.      For  example,  let  us  suppose  that  we  have  manu- 
factured a  new  kind  of  cloth.     As  long  as  nobody  pays 
any  attention  to  the  matter,  nobody  buys.      We  deter- 
mine to  spend  $1,000  in  advertising  by  a  brief  notice  for 
a  large  number  of  times  in  the  regular  type  of  the  paper. 
Among  the  numerous  other  advertisements  ours  attracts 


;ss. 


94 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


Lack  of  scien- 
tific investiga- 
tion of  this  law. 


Law  of  inten- 
sity. 


no  attention  ;  the  money  is  wasted.  We  try  again, 
putting  in  half  as  many  advertisements  but  making  each 
twice  as  large.  We  get  a  better  return.  By  continually 
increasing  the  size  at  the  expense  of  the  number  of  rep- 
etitions, we  get  steadily  better  returns  till  the  bigness  of 
the  advertisement  is  sufficiently  striking  to  render  any  in- 
crease unnecessary.  Any  further  increase  does  no  good 
by  reason  of  its  size,  but  does  injury  by  decreasing  the 
number  of  repetitions.  The  skilful  advertiser  will  stop 
just  at  the  maximum  point. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  keenness  of  business  men 
often  leads  them  unconsciously  to  anticipate  the  discov- 
eries of  science.  The  law  by  which  the  intensity  of  at- 
tention is  related  to  bigness  has  never  even  been  proposed 
in  the  psychological  laboratory,  yet  the  successful  adver- 
tisers have  learned  it  by  practical  experience.  The  law 
I  have  here  explained  in  popular  form  and  the  laws  I  am 
about  to  mention  should  and  must  be  made  the  subject 
of  the  most  careful,  most  accurate,  and  most  extended 
investigation  in  the  psychological  laboratories.  Every 
detail,  every  application,  must  be  sought  for.  There  is 
no  more  vital  question  in  all  mental  science  than  this  one 
of  attention.  The  whole  subject  of  interest,  about 
which  we  are  accustomed  to  hear  so  many  Herbartian 
platitudes,  is  merely  one  phase  of  it.  The  scientific  psy- 
chologists are  deeply  to  blame — as  I  am  included  in  the 
reproach  I  can  speak  freely — for  not  having  by  experi- 
ment and  measurement  rescued  this  chapter  of  all  chap- 
ters from  the  clutch  of  the  old  psychology. 

The  second  law  of  attention  which  I  venture  to  pro- 
pose is  the  law  of  intensity  or  brightness,  according  to 
which  the  intensity  of  a  sensation  inflnences  the  amount 
of  attention  paid  to  it.     Here  also  we  have  no  experimental 


Attention.  95 

results  ;  we  must,  for  our  examples,  rely  on  the  art  of 
psychology  rather  than  on  the  science. 

The  shopkeeper  well  knows  the  effect  of  a  gilded  sign.    Examples. 
The  druggist's  bright  light  forces  you  to  notice  him. 
The  headlight  on  the  trolley-car  serves  another  purpose 
in  addition  to  lighting  the  track.     The  Madison  Square 
Garden  in  New  York  advertises  itself  by  its  bright  lights. 

The  clanging  gong,  the  excruciating  fish-horn,  the 
rooster's  crow,  and  the  college  yell  are  all  for  the  pur- 
pose of  attracting  attention.  Full  black  letters  for  par- 
agraph headings  or  advertisements  are  more  effective 
than  ordinary  type  or  outline  letters. 

Cleanliness  is  not  the  only  reason  why  a  man-of-war  is 
kept  in  a  high  degree  of  polish.  The  furnishings  could 
be  just  as  clean  if  painted  with  black  asphalt,  but  the 
effect  on  the  officers  and  men  would  be  quite  difTerent. 
It  is  impossible  to  get  full  attention  to  duty  and  discipline 
in  a  dingy  vessel. 

This  same  principle  is  applied  in  instruction.      An  old   Application  to 
or  rusty  piece  of  apparatus  cannot  command  the  same 
attention  from  the  students  as  a  brightly  varnished  and 
nickel-plated  one. 

Students  in  a  chemical  laboratory  do  not  pay  nearly  as 
good  attention  to  their  manipulations  if  they  work  over 
scorched,  stained  tables  and  black  sinks.  The  director  of 
one  laboratory  in  Belgium  covers  his  tables  with  fine, 
white  lava-tops.  The  expense  is  at  first  great,  but  the 
increased  attention  more  than  repays  the  cost.  Experi- 
ence has  shown  that  the  students  working  at  those  tables 
keep  their  glassware  cleaner  and  do  their  chemical  work 
with  more  care  than  those  who  work  at  the  ordinary 
wooden  tables. 

We  noticed  the  use  of  bigness  for  memorial  purposes ; 


teaching. 


96 


Thinkings   Feelings    Doing. 


Law  of  feeling. 


Beauty  and 
bigness. 


Various 
feelings 
employed. 


the  use  of  brightness  is  also  common.  The  brilliancy 
of  stained  glass  windows  attracts  at  the  present  day  as 
much  attention  at  a  moderate  expense  as  could  be  at- 
tracted by  a  costly,  beautiful  statue  or  tablet. 

The  third  law  I  shall  call  the  law  of  feeling;  it  can  be 
stated  in  this  way  :  The  degree  of  attention  paid  to  a7i 
object  depends  on  the  inte7isity  of  the  feeling  aroused. 
The  feeling  may  be  either  of  liking  or  disliking. 

Painful  sensations  arouse  a  strong  dislike.  ' '  The 
burned  child  dreads  the  fire "  ;  it  is  equally  true  that  a 
burned  child  watches  the  stove.  The  very  name  of 
croup  strikes  terror  into  the  mother  and  the  slightest 
hoarseness  arouses  her  attention. 

Few  feelings  are  so  intensely  pleasurable  as  those  of 
the  young  mother.  Watch  the  tension — the  <3^/tention — 
to  every  movement  of  the  child. 

In  former  days  beautiful  objects  were  accompanied  by 
intensely  pleasurable  feelings.  When  Giotto  wished  to 
give  Florence  a  remarkable  tower,  he  made  it  of  won- 
drous beauty.  When  the  Parisians  wished  a  striking 
tower  for  their  exposition,  they  got  M.  Eiffel  to  make  it 
the  tallest  one. 

To  celebrate  the  victory  of  his  chorus  in  the  theater  of 
Bacchus,  Lysikrates  erected  in  Athens  his  famous 
choragic  monument.  Exquisitely  wrought,  graceful  in 
its  proportions,  rich  in  decoration,  perfect  in  its  material, 
it  is  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  the  world.  True,  it 
is  only  thirty-four  feet  tall,  and  to-day  in  competition 
with  the  Ferris  wheel  would  not  attract  the  slightest  at- 
tention— unless  it  could  be  used  as  the  ticket-ofhce. 

In  fact,  our  crude  western  civilization,  our  puritanical 
love  of  the  ugly,  and  our  color-blind  Quakerism  have 
deprived  us  of  any  feeling  for  beautiful   objects.      If  an 


Personal  pride. 


Attention.  97 

appeal  is  to  be  made  for  attention  through  feehng,  it  must 
be  done  in  some  other  way.  The  other  way  is  generally 
by  use  of  the  comic,  the  grotesque,  or  the  hideous  ;  for 
example,  the  soi-disant  jokes  that  are  interspersed  all 
through  our  newspapers,  the  cartoons  of  Puck,  and  the 
colored  supplements  of  the  New  York  Sunday  papers. 

Personal  pride  is  accompanied  by  strong  feeling  which 
brings  attention  to  anything  necessary  for  its  proper 
maintenance.  \'anity  is  closely  connected  with  attention 
to  dress.  The  personal  pride  may  extend  to  our  club, 
our  town — nay,  even  to  our  country ;  for  not  all 
patriots  are  scoundrels,  some  are  merely  ^-ain, 

It  was  this  same  esprit  de  corps  that  Bonaparte  knew 
how  to  arouse.  Bismarck  and  Moltke  won  the  Franco- 
Prussian  War  by  the  attention  of  every  soldier  to  his 
duty. 

The  culminating  point  in  education  is  the  power  to  at- 
tend to  things  that  are  in  themselves  indifterent  by  arous-  Artificial 
ing  an  artificial  feeling  of  interest.  There  is  hardly  any- 
thing of  less  intrinsic  interest  to  the  student  than  analyti- 
cal mathematics,  such  as  algebra ;  the  treatment  is  pur- 
posely deprived  of  every  concrete  relation.  Yet  we  know 
that  the  power  of  attending  to  such  a  subject  can  be  cul- 
tivated. Indeed,  I  have  heard  that  there  are  some  mathe- 
maticians who  e\"en  take  an  interest  in  that  science. 

The  fourth  law  of  attention  which  I  shall  propose  is  the   Law  of 
law  of  expectation — I  had  almost  said,  of  curiosity.  expectation. 

A  step  at  the  front  door  arouses  a  memory  of  a  bell- 
ring  ;  the  ear  is  prepared  to  hear  it.  Whether  the  mat- 
ter concerns  us  or  not,  this  condition  of  expectation  forces 
our  attention. 

The  peacock  who  lived  next  door  to  De  Ouincey  al- 
most maddened  him  bv  the   expectation  of  the  coming 


98 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


scream.  The  actual  scream  was  a  relief ;  thereafter  the 
attention  became  steadily  more  and  more  intense  till  the 
moment  of  the  next  scream.  The  law  of  expectation  is 
used  in  a  masterly  way  in  Dickens'  s  ' '  Mutual  Friend. 
It  is  a  characteristic  of  successful  newspaper  writing 
that  the  opening  paragraph  shall  arouse  expectation,  and 
therefore  attention.  The  same  principle  underlies  the  art 
of  writing  headlines. 

Curiosity  is  expectation  where  the  mental  picture  is 

very  indefinite.   We  all  know  the  story  of  P.  T.  Barnum 

and  the  brick.      We  can  also  understand  why  The  New 

York  Herald  put  large  glass  windows  in  its  publication 

building. 

Scientific  men  are  famed  for  strict  and  ardent  at- 
tention to  their  investigations.  The  fascination  of  re- 
search and  discovery  lies  in  the  vague  expectation  of 
something  new.  The  essence  of  all  science  is  curiosity 
— the  same  every-day,  good  old  homely  curiosity  that 

impels  Farmer  B 's  wife  to  learn  just  how  many  eggs 

are  laid  by  her  neighbors'  hens,  that  makes  Robbie  pull 
apart  his  tin  locomotive  to  see  how  it  works,  or  that  in- 
duces kitty  to  stick  her  paw  down  a  knot-hole  in 
the  floor.  The  next  time  a  scientific  man  quotes  that 
scandalous  —  but  true  —  proverb  about  curiosity  and 
woman,  let  my  fair  readers  ask  him,  if  he  is  a  zoologist, 
why  he  pries  into  the  housekeeping  habits  of  the  squirrel 

(Farmer  B 's  wife)  ;  if  he  is  a  botanist,  why  he  pulls 

your  prettiest  flower  to  pieces  (Robbie)  ;  if  he  is  an 
archaeologist,  why  his  friends  so  attentively  poke  them- 
selves into  the  pyramids  and  tombs  of  Egypt  (kitty  and 
the  knot-hole). 

Unsatisfied    curiosity    arouses    still    more    attention. 
Many  papers  still  maintain  puzzle  columns,  well  knowing 


Attention.  99 


Law  of  change. 


that  unsatisfied  curiosity  is  a  more  intense  form  of  un- 
satisfied expectation.  Possibly  the  strange,  comphcated 
designs  on  our  magazine  covers  are  meant  to  be  puzzles 
that  can  never  be  solved.  The  reason  of  the  great  at- 
tention paid  to  Stockton's  "The  Lady  or  the  Tiger" 
is  to  be  found  here. 

It  is  a  principle  of  serial  stories  that  each  installment 
shall  end  with  an  unsatisfied  expectation.  This  con- 
tributes more  than  the  merit  of  the  story  to  arousing  the 
attention  of  the  reader,  who,  because  he  keeps  thinking 
of  what  may  happen,  is  forced  to  buy  the  next  number 
of  the  periodical  in  order  to  be  relieved  of  the  tension. 

The  fifth  law  of  attention  is  the  law  of  change,  or  the 
law  of  unexpectedness  ;  the  degree  of  attention  depends 
upon  the  amount  and  on  the  rapidity  of  the  change. 

Things  indifferent  and  even  things  unpleasing  may 
leave  their  impress  by  the  severity  of  the  shock  they 
give.  A  flash  of  lightning  or  a  low  door-lintel  com- 
mands notice.  There  is  an  old  saying  that  wonder  is 
the  beginning  of  philosophy.  Various  things  may  be 
meant  by  wonder,  but  one  thing  is  the  shock  of  mere 
surprise  or  astonishment  ;  at  any  rate  an  impression  is 
made. 

In  our  reading  we  expect  only  straight  lines.  The 
advertiser  arouses  attention  by  tipping  them  slantwise. 
The  advertiser  makes  frequent  use  of  this  law  com- 
bined with  the  law  of  curiosity  by  putting  in  his  notice 
upside  down. 

A  prominent  effect  of  attention  is  to  shorten  reaction-   Effect  of 
time  and  thought-time  and  make  them   more  regular.    mentai°qu°ick- 
The  commands  of  a  military  captain  are  really  signals  for  "IJuiarity. 
reaction.     The  first  part  of  a  military  command  is  ar- 
ranged to  serve  as  a  warning  signal  to  insure  good  atten- 


loo  Thiyikmg,   Feelings   Doing. 

tion  ;  ' '  Shoulder— ARMS  !  "  "  Right— FACE  ! "  The 
acts  of  the  men  are  simple  reactions.  They  are  not  as- 
sociations ;  therein  lies  the  reason  why  a  command  is  not 
given  as  a  single  expression.  If  the  command  were 
"  Forward-march,"  delivered  as  one  expression,  the 
soldier  would  be  obliged  to  discriminate,  associate,  and 
choose  among  twenty  or  thirty  possible  commands.  We 
have  already  seen  that  these  processes  not  only  take  a 
very  long  time  but  are  very  irregular ;  moreover,  no 
warning  would  have  been  given.  The  company  could 
not  possibly  step  forward  as  one  man.  Whereas  the 
command  "Forward — MARCH"  causes  all  the  men- 
tal processes  except  simple  reaction  to  be  performed 
beforehand  ;  every  man  in  the  company  has  but  one 
thing  to  do,  his  attention  has  been  properly  prepared  by 
the  warning  and  the  whole  company  should  start  together. 
I  venture  to  suggest  that  the  splendid  drilling  of  the 
Attention  and  Scvcuth  Regiment,  N.  G.  S.  N.  Y.,  is  due  to  the  intense 
^"  ^'  attention  paid  to  the  commands.      Although  the  men  are 

under  drill  only  once  a  week,  they  compete  with  and 
often  surpass  the  regular  troops,  who  drill  several  times  a 
day.  I  know  from  personal  experience  that  the  regi- 
mental pride  was  something  stupendous  and  that  while 
under  drill  the  mind  was  tuned  to  a  high  pitch  of  excite- 
ment. Every  thought  was  on  the  captain  ;  the  eye  and 
the  ear  were  strained  to  catch  the  next  command  ;  every 
muscle  was  waiting  its  orders  from  the  will.  In  fact,  it 
often  seemed  as  though  the  muscles  obeyed  the  captain's 
orders  without  waiting  for  the  man's  own. 

The  use  of  the  preparatory  signal  for  the  purpose  of 
fixing  attention  is  familiar  in  the  sailors'  cry,  ' '  Yo — 
Ho  ! ' '  whereby  they  can  pull  together. 

A  notable  effect  of  attention  to  one  idea  is  the  lack  of 


Attention.  loi 


attention  to  other  ideas.  Henry  Clay  was  obliged  to  concentration 
speak  on  one  occasion  when  in  very  delicate  health.  ^^^'^<^"ght. 
He  asked  a  friend  who  sat  beside  him  to  stop  him 
after  twenty  minutes.  When  the  time  had  passed, 
the  friend  pulled  Clay's  coat,  but  he  continued  to 
speak.  His  friend  pinched  him  several  times  and 
finally  ran  a  pin  into  his  leg.  Clay  paid  no  attention. 
He  spoke  for  more  than  two  hours  and  then,  sink- 
ing exhausted,  he  upbraided  his  friend  for  not  giving 
him  a  signal  to  stop  at  the  proper  time.  The  signals  had 
been  given  but  his  mind  was  so  intensely  attentive  to  his 
discussion  that  everything  else  was  neglected.  It  is  a 
well-known  fact  that  we  can  forget  griefs,  pains,  even  the 
toothache,  when  reading  a  fascinating  book  or  watching 
a  forcible  drama. 

Excessive  cases  of  this  effect  of  attention  are  seen  in   y^^^  ^f  ^^^ 
the  men  of  one  interest  and  the  men  of  one  idea.      We   ^'^^^• 
have  men  who  will  listen  to  nothing  but  discussions   of 
Shakespeare,  others  whose  sole  idea  lies  in  pork. 

Going  still  further  we  find  abnormal  cases:  arithmo-  Diseases  of 
mania,  where  the  patient  is  continually  asking  why  the  ^"ention. 
houses  are  so  large,  why  the  trees  are  so  tall,  or  where  he 
is  continually  counting  the  number  of  paving-stones  in 
the  street  or  the  number  of  rivers  in  a  country;  meta- 
physical mania,  where  the  patient  cannot  hear  a  word 
like  "good,"  "beautiful,"  "being,"  etc.,  without 
irresistibly  speculating  on  the  problems  of  ethics,  aesthet- 
ics, and  metaphysics.  These  and  similar  cases  are  in- 
cluded under  the  term  of  "fixed  ideas."  The  acute 
stage  of  excessive  attention  is  found  in  ecstasy. 

The  methods  of  rapidly  fatisfuingf  attention  have  lately 

.  .  ...  Fatiguing 

been  brought  into  notice  by  hypnotic  exhibitions.      Pre-   attention. 
paratory  to  influencing  a  person  by  suggestion  he  is  often 


I02 


Thinki7ig,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Hypnotizing. 


Fatiguing 
attention  to 
produce  sleep. 


reduced  to  a  half-dazed  condition  by  steady  gazing  at  a 
bright  object,  by  repeated  bright  flashes,  by  monotonous 
noises,    by    regular    strokes    of   the   hand,    etc.      This 

process  consists  es- 
sentially of  a  fatigue 
of  attention.  It  is 
generally  called 
"hypnotizing.  " 
The  name  seems 
justified,  as  the  re- 
sulting condition  re- 
sembles the  som- 
nambulic form-  of 
sleep  where  the  pa- 
tient is  half  awake. 
The  means  em- 
ployed are  close 
copies  of  well-known 
methods  of  avoid- 
ing sleeplessness. 
Steady  gazing  at  the 
ceiling,  the  tick  of  a 
watch  under  the  pil- 
low, the  hum  of  a 
dynamo  on  shipboard,  the  roar  of  the  falls  and  the  grind- 
ing of  the  mill,  the  stroking  of  the  invalid's  brow — these 
have  banished  many  an  hour  of  hopeless  tossing. 


Fig.  56.    Fatiguing  Attention  Preparatory  to 
Hypnotism. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


TOUCH. 


Here  is  a  row  often  little  disks,  3"^"^  in  diameter,  cut  An  experiment 
from  elder-pith.  Each  is  suspended  by  tine  cocoon-fiber  *^"  touch, 
from  a  little  handle.  For  portability  the  handles  are 
stuck  in  holes  in  a  support.  Fig.  57.  Now  place  your 
hand  comfortably  on  the  table  and  close  your  eyes. 
Tell  me  when  and 
where  you  feel  any- 
thing touch  your 
hand.  Without 
letting  you  know 
what  I  am  doing  I 
take  the  handle 
with  the  lightest 
weight  and  let  the 
weight  softly  down 
till  it  rests  on  your 
hand  (Fig.  58). 
You  do  not  know 
that  I  have  done 
so,  and  you  feel 
nothing.  Then  I  try  the  next  heavier,  and  so  on,  till 
you  feel  the  pressure.  The  little  disks  are  graded  in 
weight,  thus  i'"-,  2'"§,  etc.,  up  to  lo"^^. 

Now,  if  the  fourth  weight  was  the  first  you  felt,  then   Threshold  of 
4*"S  was  the  least  noticeable  weight,  or  the  weight  just  on  pressure. 

103 


Fig.  57.    Touch-weights  for  Finding  the 
Threshold. 


I04 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


A  second 
experiment. 


Tickle. 


Use  of  the 
tuninar-fork. 


the  threshold  of  intensity.  This  fact  of  the  threshold  is 
one  that  we  shall  meet  everywhere  in  the  study  of  mind. 
The  threshold  of  sensation  for  the  sense  of  pressure 
in  an  average  subject  was  2"^^  for  forehead,  temples,  and 
back  of  forearm  and  hand ;  3™§'  for  inner  side  of  forearm  ; 

5™g  for  nose,  hip,  chin, 
and  abdomen ;  5"^^^  to 
i5™s  on  inner  surface 
of  fingers ;  and  i ,  000™^ 
on  heel  and  nails. 

Some  idea  of  the  del- 
icacy for  distinguishing 
differences  in  pressure 
can  be  obtained  by  lay- 
Fig.  58.    Finding  the  Threshold  for  the  Palm    ing  a  hair  On  a  plate  of 
of  the  Hand.  <  i  ,,• 

glass  and  puttmg  over 
it  ten  to  fifteen  sheets  of  writing  paper.  The  position 
of  the  hair  can  easily  be  felt  by  passing  the  finger  back 
and  forth  over  the  surface. 

Touching  with  movement  gives  much  more  deUcate 
judgments  than  mere  contact.  A  book-cover  feels  much 
rougher  when  the  finger  is  moved  over  it  than  when  it  is 
merely  touched. 

Something  very  peculiar  occurs  when  a  light  pressure 
is  varied  rapidly  in  intensity.  If  the  tip  of  a  tuning-fork 
in  motion  be  slowly  touched  to  the  skin,  it  ' '  tickles. ' ' 

A  tuning-fork  when  in  motion  shakes  (or  vibrates). 
A  tuning-fork  can  be  made  to  record  just  what  it  does 
when  it  shakes.  Glue  a  hair  to  the  end  of  the  fork. 
Smoke  a  piece  of  window-glass  in  a  candle-flame  for  a 
moment,  moving  it  about  to  keep  it  from  cracking.  It 
will  soon  be  covered  with  a  layer  of  smoke.  Hold- 
ing the   fork   by  the  stem,    set   it    shaking    by  striking 


Touch. 


105 


it  smartly  across  the  knee  or  edge  of  a  flatiron  wrapped 
in  several  layers  of  cloth.  With  a  quick  mo\'ement, 
draw  the  fork  so  that  the  hair  traces  a  line  in  the  smoke. 
A  curve  will  be  drawn  like  that  in  Fig.  4. 

Now,  if  the  fork  be  held  with  the  end  touching  the 
skin,  as  in  Fig.  59,  it  is  plain  that  the  hair  must  be  pro-  Wavy  pressure, 
ducing  a  fluctuating  pressure.  The  result  is  an  unbear- 
able ' '  tickle. ' '  This  peculiar  form  of  pressure  can  be 
called  a  wavy  pressure.  A  light,  wavy  pressure,  then, 
produces  a  tickle. 

The  tickling  pressure  need  not  be  a  true  wavy  pres- 


Fig.  59.    An  Experiment  in  Tickling. 


sure  ;  that  is,  it  need  not  be  perfectly  regular.  If  any  ob- 
ject, such  as  a  feather  or  the  finger,  be  held  lightly 
against  the  face,  a  tickle  is  felt,  due  to  the  trembling  of 
the  hand. 

The  tickling  thing  need  not  stay  at  one  spot,  but  may 
be  moved  along  continuously.  A  feather  drawn  over 
the  temples  makes  a  strong  tickle.     A  fly  walking  over 


Tickling 
pressure  need 
not  be  regular ; 


or  at  the  same 
spot. 


io6 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Change  of 
pressure. 


Experiment. 


the  skin  produces  an  unbearable  tickle  in  exactly  the 
same  way.  Stories  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  relate  how 
the  soldier-robbers  forced  the  peasant  to  reveal  his  treas- 
ure by  subjecting  him  to  unbearable  tickle. 

When  a  pressure  is  already  felt,  it  can  be  made 
stronger  or  weaker  to  a  certain  degree  before  the  change 
is  perceived. 

The  experiment  can  be  made  with  a  pair  of  beam- 
balances.     The  hand,  supported  by  a  block  or  cushion, 


Fig.  60.    Finding  the  Least  Noticeable  Change  in  Pressure. 

is  placed  under  the  scale-pan  so  that  when  the  scale  is 
at  rest,  the  pan-holder  just  touches  the  skin  (Fig.  60). 
To  avoid  the  coldness  of  the  pan,  a  piece  of  cork  or 
leather  is  placed  between  the  hand  and  the  metal. 

The  subject  of  experiment  closes  his  eyes.      A  weight 


To2ich. 


107 


is  placed  in  the  pan  above  the  hand.     A  sensation   of 
pressure  is  felt.      Sand  is  quietly  poured  into  the  same 
pan  until  the  subject  feels  the  pressure  to  be  increasing. 
By  putting  weights  in  the  other  pan  the  amount  of  in- 
crease   can    be   measured.      Now   start   with    the   same 
weight  as  before  and  pour  sand  into  the  opposite  pan 
until  the  subject  feels  the  pressure  to  be  lighter.     The  Least  notice- 
amount  of  sand  that  has  been  added  represents  the  least  ^^^^  change, 
noticeable  change,   or  the  threshold  of  change,   in  the 
pressure.       Thus,  if  the  weight  at  the  start  was  50S  and 
the  amount  of  sand  added  was  352^,  the  least  noticeable 
change  was  35^^,  or  If  of  the  original  pressure. 

Several  facts  will  be  noticed  by  those  who  perform  influence  of 
this  experiment.  In  the  first  place,  the  least  noticeable  ^^^^' 
change  depends  on  the  rate  at  which  the  change  is  made. 
Several  funnels  should  be  used,  with  the  ends  of  different 
sizes.  When  one  of  these  is  filled  with  sand,  the  rate 
at  which  the  sand  flows  out  depends  on  the  size  of  the 
opening  ;  some  funnels  will  allow  the  sand  to  flow  rapidly, 
others  slowly.  When  the  same  experiment  is  repeated 
with  different  rates  of  flow,  it  will  be  found  that  the 
slower  the  flow  the  greater  the  least  noticeable  change. 
AVith  a  very  slow  flow  the  weight  can  often  be  increased 
t^vo  or  three  times  over  before  the  change  is  noticed. 

No  one  has  ever  tried  to  see  if  a  great  pressure  can  be  ^^^  extrem  1 
appHed  to  the  human  skin  without  its  being  noticed,  slow  rate, 
provided  the  rate  be  extremely  slow.  A  frog  with 
the  spinal  cord  cut  off  from  the  brain  is  quite  sensitive 
to  a  touch  ;  yet  when  a  pressure  is  applied  by  screwing 
a  rod  down  at  the  rate  of  0.03"^™  In  one  minute  his  foot 
can  be  crushed  in  5  ]i^  hours  without  a  sign  that  the  pres- 
sure was  felt. 

The  next  point  to  be  remarked  is  that  the  least  notice- 


io8 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doijig. 


Influence  of 
the  starting- 
point. 


General  law. 


Least  notice- 
able difference. 


Experiment. 


able  change  depends  on  the  weight  from  which  the  pres- 
sure is  started.  Roughly  speaking,  if  for  a  weight  of 
5os^  the  least  noticeable  change,  at  a  certain  rate,  is  30^^, 
or  60  per  cent,  then  the  least  noticeable  change,  at  the 
same  rate,  for  25s  will  be  15-,  or  60  per  cent,  not  30^. 

These  two  classes  of  facts  can  be  summed  up  in  one 
general  law  :  The  threshold  of  change  increases  in- 
versely as  the  rate  of  change  but  proportionately  as  the 
starting  pressure. 

Strangely  enough,  although  change  and  rate  of  change 
enter  into  nearly  every  experience  of  life,  almost  nothing 
has  been  done  in  the  experimental  study  of  the  subject. 
Several  years  ago  I  called  attention  to  the  importance  of 
this  factor  of  the  rate  of  change.      Here,  for  the  first 
time,   I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  proposing  the  law  of 
the  threshold  of  change.      It  is  based  on  various   ob- 
servations I  have  made  at  different  times  ;  nevertheless, 
no   extended   investigations  on   the   subject  have  been 
made,  and  until  these  are  done  the  law  cannot  be  re- 
garded as  definitely  established. 

The  least  noticeable  difference  is  quite  another  matter 
from  the  least  noticeable  change.  The  usual  method  of 
experiment  employs  a  series  of  weights  successively 
growing  slightly  heavier  or  lighter  from  the  standard. 

Suppose  we  start  with  a  weight  of  20^  as  a  standard, 
and  have  a  set  of  weights  increasing  or  decreasing  suc- 
cessively by  steps  of  i^.  The  standard  is  first  applied, 
say,  to  the  palm  of  the  hand — the  hand  being  at  rest  on 
a  cushion.  It  is  then  removed  and,  after  about  two  sec- 
onds, the  21S  weight  is  applied  for  an  instant.  The  sub- 
ject tells  whether  he  feels  it  lighter,  heavier,  or  the  same. 
After  a  short  time  the  standard  is  again  used  ;  then  the 
22^^  weight  is  applied.      This  is  continued  with  238^,  2\^, 


Touch. 


109 


standards. 


etc.,  till  the  subject  has  several  times  in  succession  felt 
the  weights  to  be  heavier.  The  lirst  weight  of  the  un- 
broken succession  of  heavier  weights  gives  the  least  notice- 
able difference.  For  example,  suppose  a  set  of  experi- 
ments to  give  the  following  results  :  21  equal,  22  heavier, 
23  lighter,  24  equal,  25  heavier,  26  heavier,  27  heavier, 
28  heavier.  Then  the  threshold  would  be  at  5s,  all 
differences  less  than  25  —  20  being  uncertain. 

In  a  similar  manner  the  threshold  of  difference  can  be  vanous 
found  with  successively  lighter  weights.  For  a  general 
threshold  the  average  of  the  two  can  be  taken.  For 
example,  if  the  threshold  for  2o§^  toward  lightness  is 
4S  and  the  threshold  toward  heaviness  is  5^^,  the  average 
threshold  is  4^^.  When  different  weights  are  used  as 
standards,  it  quickly  becomes  apparent  that  the  thresh- 
old of  difference  does  not  remain  at  the  same  number  of 
grams.  For  a  standard  of  200^  the  difference  of  5s  will 
not  be  felt  at  all.  The  threshold  will  be  more  nearly 
20S. 

The  results  of  such  a  series  of  experiments  are  given  in 
the  following  table : 


Results. 


S  1   2  5   10 

20 

oO  100 

200 

500 

1,000 

2,000 

4,000 

D  0.2  0.3  0.6  0.9 

1.5 

2.8  6.4 

10.8 

25 

57 

80 

100 

^    T     7     8      11 

-h 

1   1 

T8    T6" 

1 

T9 

1 
20 

1 

T8 

_i. 

1 

40 

The  figures  in  S  give  the  different  standards  ;  those  in 
D  give  the  least  noticeable  differences  ;  those  in  -g-  tell 
the  relation  of  the  least  noticeable  difference  to  the  stand- 
ard. Thus,  for  a  standard  oi  1^  the  least  noticeable  dif- 
ference is  o.  2S,  or  i  =  20  per  cent.  For  1,000^^  it  is  57^^, 
or  T8  =  5.7  per  cent. 

It  Is  evident  that  the  least  noticeable  difference  does 
not  remain  the  same  but  increases  as  the  standard  in- 
creases.     The  famous  law  of  Weber  would  say  that  the 


Weber's  law. 


no 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Law  is  too 
simple. 


Threshold  of 
space. 


Experiment. 


least  noticeable  difference  increases  in  the  same  ratio  as 
the  standard ;  in  other  words,  that  the  least  noticeable 
difference  is  always  a  certain  fraction  of  the  standard. 
This  is  not  true  for  pressure,  as  is  seen  by  the  line  of 
fractions  for  -^  ;  according  to  Weber's  law  they  should 
all  be  the  same. 

This  law  of  proportionality  of  differences  is  recognized 
in  many  tax  laws.  For  example,  the  income  tax  de- 
mands that  each  person  shall  pay  an  amount  in  direct 
proportion  to  his  income.  The  Mosaic  tithe  demanded 
a  tenth.  This  is  presumably  all  in  the  belief  that  a  man 
with  $ioo  feels  a  payment  of  $io  as  much  as  a  man  with 
$100,000  feels  one  of  $10,000.  • 

In  saying  that  like  differences  are  not  differences  of 
the  same  amount,  but  are  differences  depending  on  the 
amount  from  which  you  reckon,  the  law  is  unquestion- 
ably true.  But  the  relation  of  pro- 
portionality is  much  too  simple  to  meet 
the  facts. 

It   is   a   curious  and   interesting  fact 
that  much  finer  differences  can  be  de- 
tected when  the  two  weights    are   ap- 
plied one  to  each  hand  at  the  same  time. 
Let  us  find  the  threshold  of  space  for 
the  skin.      An  ordinary  pair  of  drawing- 
dividers  can  be  used,  but  accurate  work 
requires  a  better  apparatus.     The  com- 
Fig.  61.   Simple  ^s- pass  in  Fig.  62  consists  of  a  horizontal 
bar  on  which  slide  the  two  points.    These 
points  are  held  on  springs  so  that  the  experiment  can 
be  made  at  a  constant  pressure. 

Place  the  two  points  at  i™™  apart.  Take  the  sesthesi- 
ometer  by  the  handle  and  gently  press  the  points  against 


Touch. 


Ill 


the  forehead  of  some  one  who   has  his   eyes  closed  and 
who  has  not  seen  the  adjustment  of  the  points.      He  is  to 
say  whether  he  feels  two  points  or  one.     At  this  distance 
he  will  feel  only  one. 
Adjust  the  points  to 
2mm    aj^(^    ^j-y  again. 

Proceed  in    this  way  ^^^,s>:,■■. 
till   he  feels    the  two 
points     distinctly. 
Now   start   with    a 

somewhat      greater         ^''^•^^-    The  Complete  ^sthesiometer. 

distance  and  proceed  backward  till  only  one  point  is  felt. 
The  average  of  the  two  results  is  the  threshold  of  skin- 
space  at  the  particular  pressure  for  the  particular  place 
of  the  particular  person  experimented  upon. 

Here  is  a  specimen  table  of  results  from  Weber  :  Results. 

Tongue i"^"^ 

Inner  side  of  first  finger-joint  .     2"^*" 

Lips  (red  portion) 5"^"^ 

Inner  side  of  second  finger-joint  7"^"^ 

Lips  (skin) 9"^"^ 

Cheek,    big  toe umm 

Forehead 23"^"^ 

Back  of  hand 31"^"^ 

Leg 40"^"^ 

Neck 54"^"^ 

Middle  of  back,  upper  arm,  thigh  68"^"^ 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  skin  can  be  educated   Education  of 
by  practice  so  that  the  threshold  is  much  reduced.     This 
can  be  measured  directly  by  Weber's  compass  ;  any  one 
with  a  pair  of  dividers  can  try  the  experiment  on  him- 
self 

The  blind,  who  pay  constant  attention  to  their  finger-   Threshold  of 
tips,    have  very  small    thresholds.      Curiously    enough,    theblind.'^"^ 


112 


Thi7iking,   Feelings   Domg. 


Cross- 
education. 


Location  of 
points  on  the 
skin. 


their  thresholds  are  also  smaller  on  the  back  and  on 
other  places  which  they  do  not  use  more  than  other 
people.  The  superiority  of  the  blind  in  this  respect 
would  seem  to  be  due  to  increased  attention  to  the  skin. 
A  further  evidence  of  this  explanation  is  the  fact  that  ed- 
ucation of  one  part  of  the  body  brings  a  special  decrease 
of  the  threshold  for  the  neighboring  parts  and  for  the  same 
portion  of  the  opposite  side  of  the  body.  The  experi- 
ment can  be  performed  in  this  way :  First  find  the  thresh- 
old for  the  front 
of  the  wrist  of  the 
left  arm,  trying  it 
five  times ;  then 
find  it  for  the 
same  place  on  the 
right  arm,  trying 
for  ten  minutes  ; 
then  on  trying 
again  on  the  left 
arm  the  threshold 
will  be  found  to 
be  less. 

The  fineness 
of  distinction  for 
space  on  the  skin 
can  be  shown  in 
a  simpler  but  less 
accurate   way. 
The   person    ex- 
perimented upon   closes  his  eyes.     Some  one   touches 
him  with  a  pencil  point  and  he  moves  another  pencil  to 
the  point  where  he  was  touched.     The  error  is  measured. 
There  is  an  interesting  application  of  this  experiment 


Fig,  63.    Testing  a  Child's  Idea  of  Skin-space. 


Touch. 


113 


iment 
with  a  child. 


which  I  will  propose  to  mothers.  Young  children  cannot  Exper 
be  made  to  understand  either  of  the  last  two  experi- 
ments. An  intelligent  and  patient  mother,  however, 
can  teach  her  child,  even  before  it  can  talk,  to  put  its 
finger  to  the  spot  on  which  it  is  touched.  Dip  the  end 
of  the  child's  finger  into  something  black,  e.  g.,  soot, 
pencil-filings,  powdered  graphite,  or  blacking.  Touch 
the  child  with  a  pencil  and  let  him  point  to  the  spot. 
Measure  the  distance  between  the  pencil  mark  and  the 
finger  mark. 

Our  experience  has  taught  us  that  the  various  portions 
of    the    skin    stand   in    certain    space- 
relations.     Thus  we  know  that   some- 
thing   touching    the    middle    finger    is 
further  from  the  thumb  than  something 
touching  the  index  finger.     When  the 
fingers  are  out  of  their  places   we   are 
irresistibly  driven  to  judge   as  if  they 
were  in  proper   order.       This    is  illus- 
trated by  what  is  known  as  Aristotle's 
experiment.       The   middle  finger   Is 
crossed  over  the  index  finger  In  such  a 
way  as  to  bring  the  tip  of  the  middle 
finger  on  the  thumb-side  of  the  other.     A  pea  or  other 
small  object,  when  inserted  between  the  two,  will  appear 
as  two  objects.      It  is  difficult  to  re-learn  the  arrangement 
of  the  skin  in  space.     We  thus  see  why  a  person  whose 
nose  has  been  re-formed  by  a  piece  of  skin  from  the  fore- 
head, for  a  while  feels  all  contact  on  the  nose  as  if  it  Avere 
contact  on  the  forehead. 

A  similar  illusion  is  produced  by  placing  a  pencil  be- 
tween the  lips  and  moving  the  under-lip  to  one  side. 
There  are  apparently  two  pencils. 


Fig.  64.     Aristotle's 
Illusion. 


Perplexing  the 
skin's  idea  of 
location. 


The  finger 
illusion. 


The  lip  illusion. 


114 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


Interrupted 
space. 


Smoothness 
and  roughness. 


The  distortion  of  space  under  unusual   conditions  is 
familiar  to  persons  in  the  dentist' s  chair. 

The  distance  between  two  points  on  the  skin  seems 


Lip  Illusion  :    i.  The  Reality;  2.  The  Feeling. 

greater   when   the    skin   between    these   points    is    also 
touched.      If  four  pins  are  pounded  in  a  straight  line  into 

a  stick  at  one  fourth 
of  an  inch  apart,  the 
distance  between  the 
end  pins  will  appear 
greater  than  that 
between  two  sepa- 
rate pins  three 
fourths  of  an  inch 
apart. 

The  distances 
apart  of  the  various 
points  that  we  feel 
are  what  we  know 
under  the  names  of 
smoothness  and 
roughness.  A  bil- 
liard-ball  is  "smooth,"  that  is,  our  sensations  of  touch 


Fig.  66. 


Space  as  Estimated  by  a  Tooth  under 
Treatment. 


Touch.  115 

are  evenly  distributed.  Carpet  is  "rough,"  that  is,  it 
produces  uneven  sensations.  Sandpaper  is  peculiarly 
' '  rough, ' '  because  very  intense  and  limited  sensations 
from  the  sharp  sand  are  mingled  with  smoother  ones 
and  gaps.  X'elvet,  when  felt  backward,  has  a  peculiar 
rough  smoothness,  because  the  separate  points  of  the 
individual  hairs  produce  separate  sensations,  yet  they 
are  so  near  together  as  to  resemble  smoothness.  Short- 
nap  plush  has  a  similar  feeling.  The  smoothness  of 
baby's  cheeks  can  be  contrasted  with  the  skin  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Brobdingnag. 

If  a  little  cardboard  triangle,  circle,  or  square  be  i^^easofform 
laid  on  the  hand  and  pressed  down  by  the  point  of  a 
knife  or  a  pencil  in  the  center,  we  get  a  combination  of 
pressures  from  every  point  on  the  surface.  Certain 
combinations  are  said  to  belong  to  triangular  objects, 
certain  others  to  circular  objects.  The  pressures  thus 
not  only  represent  a  quality  of  surface  but  also  of  form. 

As  the  judgment  of  distances  is  limited  to  distances 
larger  than  the  threshold,  very  small  cardboard  forms 
all  appear  as  points. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HOT    AND    COLD. 

In  the  old  days  it  was  supposed  that  heat  and  cold 
hot\nd  cofd.^  were  two  different  things  ;  even  to-day  the  uneducated 
person  cannot  grasp  the  idea  that  coldness  is  simply  the 
absence  of  heat,  that  a  piece  of  ice  is  cold  simply  because 
it  is  not  hot.  But  the  modern  development  of  physics 
has  shown  that  heat  consists  of  motion  among  the  little 
idea.^  ^^^^^  moleculcs  of  which  all  bodies  are  supposed  to  be  com- 
posed, and  that  as  this  motion  becomes  less  the  bodies 
are  said  to  be  cold.  Thus,  a  glass  of  warm  water  differs 
from  a  glass  of  cold  water  simply  in  the  fact  that  the 
molecules  of  the  water  in  the  former  are  moving  rapidly, 
while  in  the  latter  they  are  comparatively  quiet. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  it  was  discovered  a  few 
cai1dea.*^^°^°^''  years  ago  that  the  ordinary  common  sense  of  every- 
day people  was  right.  Not  that  the  science  of  physics 
was  wrong,  but  that  the  conclusion  drawn  was  in- 
correct. Hotness  and  coldness  are  two  entirely  differ- 
ent things  from  our  point  of  view.  A  glass  of  water  is 
warm  because  it  gives  us  a  feeling,  or  sensation,  of 
warmth  ;  another  glass  is  cool  because  it  gives  us  an  en- 
tirely different  sensation  of  coldness.  The  complete  dis- 
.  tinction  of  our  feelings  of  hotness  and  coldness  from  the 
physical  condition  of  the  molecules  of  the  object  touched 
is  emphasized  by  an  experiment  in  which  the  same  object 
feels  both  hot  and  cold  at  the  same  time. 

Ii6 


Hot  and  Cold.  117 


a  cast 


Our  sensations  of  hot  and  cold  come  from  little  spots   Hot  spots  and 
called  hot  spots  and  cold  spots.      To  tind  the  cold  spots  ^"^^^  ^p°^''- 
a  pointed  rod,  e.  g. ,  a  lathe  center,  a  pointed  nail,  or 
even  a  lead  pencil,  is  cooled  and  then  moved  slowly  and 
lightly  over  the  skin.      At  certain  points 
distinct  sensations  of  cold  will  flash  out,     .,,;•  .•»o*.* 
while  elsewhere    nothing    but    contact    or       ••••••'.*• 

vague  coldness  is  felt.  These  points  are 
the  cold  spots  ;  a  specimen  arrangement  of 
them  is  shown  in  Fig.  67. 

To  find  the  hot  spots  the  metal  point  is  q 

heated    and  applied  in  a  similar  manner.  Fig.  67^    a  Coid- 

spot  Map. 

The   hot    spots    are  everywhere   different 

from  the  cold  spots.     A  specimen  case  is  shown  in  Fig.  68. 

At  the  art  store  get  a  few  pounds  of  plaster  for  casts  jyj^i,-^^ 
(the  finely  ground  plaster,  not  the  ordinary  plaster  of  of  the  hand 
Paris).  Mix  it  with  water  in  a  bowl.  Pour  out  a  por- 
tion into  a  tin  pie-plate.  Now  press  the  hand  (palm  or 
back)  down  upon  it,  being  careful  to  touch  the  plaster  at 
every  point.  When  the  plaster  has  hardened  sufficiently 
to  permit  the  removal  of  the  hand  without 
**.;j,  sticking,  carefully  raise  it.  A  perfect  cast 
the  hand  is  obtained  with  every  line  ex- 
pressed. 

\o\\  prepare  yourself  with  a  glass  of  ice 
water,  a  crlass  of  hot  water,  some  red  and  ^.  _,.     ^^ 

rw  .  .  .  Finding  tht 

Fie  68  A  Hot  ^^"^^  t)lue  ink,  a  pointed  metal  pencil  (or  spots. 
spot  Map.  a  sharp  lead  pencil),  and  a  couple  of  tooth- 
picks. Cool  the  pencil  in  the  ice  water.  Dry  it  and 
pass  it  over  the  skin.  Whenever  a  cold  spot  flashes  out, 
mark  its  position  in  blue  ink  with  a  toothpick  on  the 
cast.  The  fine  creases  in  the  skin  will  enable  you  to 
locate  it  exactly.      Repeat  this  a  few  times,  till  you  are 


Permanent 
record. 


ii8 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doiyig. 


satisfied  that  you  have  a  map  of  all  the  cold  spots. 
Warm  the  pencil  in  the  hot  water  and  find  the  hot  spots 
in  the  same  way.      Mark  them  on  the  cast  in  red  ink. 

When  you  have  finished  you  will  have  a  complete 
geography  of  your  temperature  spots  on  a  relief  map. 
Separate  the  cast  from  the  pie-plate  ;  make  a  plush  frame 
for  it,  and  hang  it  up  in  your  art  gallery.     Those  of  you 


Fig.  69.     Finding  the  Hot  and  Cold  Spots. 

who  are  willing  to  do  a  trifle  more  work  can  use  the  im- 
pressed cast  as  a  mold  from  which  to  get  a  hand  in  actual 
relief  Very  few  of  us  can  afford  a  gallery  of  statues  of 
ourselves  to  be  transmitted  as  remembrances  to  our  de- 
scendants. Why  should  not  such  collections  of  hands, 
with  their  hot  and  cold  spots,  be  found  in  future  centuries 
in  the  ancestral  galleries  of  our  posterity  ?  Mental  pecul- 
iarities are  of  as  much  interest  as  oddities  of  dress  ;  in- 


Hot  and  Cold,  119 


deed,  to  our  descendants  they  are  of  far  greater  interest 
and  importance.  Any  one  who  is  wiUing  to  give  a  little 
more  time  to  the  matter  might  find  out  the  threshold  of 
touch  (page  103)  for  various  places  on  the  hand  and 
mark  the  number  of  milligrams  on  the  cast. 

In  very  accurate  work  we  are  troubled  by  the  impos-  Automatic 
sibility  of  keeping  the  metal  pencil  at  anywhere  near  the  J^cath?  °the 
same  temperature  and  by  the  uncertainty  in  marking  the  ^p°^^- 
spots.  To  overcome  these  difficulties  I  have  invented  an 
instrument  for  mapping  the  hot  and  cold  spots  on  the 
skin.  It  consists  of  a  pointed  copper  box  whose  sides 
are  protected  by  felt.  Through  this  box  there  runs  a 
steady  stream  of  water  from  a  reservoir.  The  water  in 
this  reservoir  is  kept  at  just  the  same  degree  of  heat  by 
means  of  an  automatic  regulator  of  the  flame.  A  ther- 
mometer in  the  copper  box  tells  what  the  temperature  of 
the  point  is.  By  adding  cold  water  from  another  reser- 
voir, we  can  use  any  temperature  we  desire.  The  little 
copper  box  is  made  to  travel  over  the  hand  ;  as  it  does 
so  a  pencil  travels  just  above  a  piece  of  paper.  When- 
ever a  spot  is  felt,  the  person  presses  a  telegraph  key 
with  the  other  hand  ;  by  means  of  a  magnet  this  causes 
the  pencil  to  strike  downward  and  make  a  dot  on  the 
paper.  By  these  means  an  accurate  map  is  automatically 
made. 

The  hot  spots  are  ordinarily  not  sensitive  to  coldness    ., 

^  -^  Always  hot  and 

or  the  cold  spots  to  heat.     Yet  a  very  hot  point  applied  to   ^oid  from  the 

•'  i-  i-  ^  same  spots. 

a  cold  Spot  SO  as  not  to  reach  hot  spots  also  will  feel  cold  ; 
of  course,  to  a  hot  spot  it  is  intensely  hot.  It  is  note- 
worthy that  when  the  hand  is  applied  to  a  very  hot  or  a 
very  cold  object  there  is  often  doubt  for  a  few  moments 
whether  it  is  hot  or  cold. 

The  temperature  spots  answer  to  tapping  by  sensations 


I20  Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 

of  hot  or  cold.  For  example,  choose  a  sensitive  cold 
spot  and  let  some  one  tap  it  with  a  fine  wooden  point  ; 
it  will  feel  cold.  Thrust  a  needle  into  it ;  it  will  feel  no 
pain. 

Law  of  change        I^^  Studying  the  subject  of  touch  we  had  occasion  to 

co'id.^'^^"^  notice  a  certain  law  of  change  (page  io8).  Does  such  a 
law  hold  good  for  hot  and  cold  ?  By  experiments  with 
the  spot  apparatus  mentioned  above  I  was  able  to  prove 
that  it  did  ;  the  smallest  noticeable  change  depends  on  the 
rate  of  change.  But  that  complicated  apparatus  is  not 
necessary  to  illustrate  the  law  ;  anybody  can  do  it  by  means 
of  a  lamp  and  a  spoon.      Let  some  one  else  hold  the  spoon 

An  experiment.  ^^  ^^  extreme  end  ;  you  yourself  put  your  finger  about 
half  way  down  the  handle.  The  bowl  of  the  spoon  is 
now  held  over  a  lamp  so  that  it  will  slowly  become  hot. 
If  the  lamp  shines  too  hotly  on  your  hand,  you  can  put 
a  screen  in  front.  After  a  while  the  handle  of  the  spoon 
under  your  finger  begins  to  feel  slightly  warm.  Lift  the 
finger  and  immediately  place  the  same  finger  of  the  other 
hand  on  the  same  place.  The  spoon  will  be  found  to  be 
quite  warm  or  even  painfully  hot.  When  the  heat  was 
gradually  increased  it  was  scarcely  noticed,  but  when 
suddenly  increased  it  was  clear  at  once  ;  in  short,  the 
sensitiveness  to  heat  depends  on  the  rate  of  change. 

At  a  very  slow  Although  a  frog  jumps  readily  when  put  in  warm 
water,  yet  a  frog  can  be  boiled  without  a  movement,  if 
the  water  is  heated  slowly  enough.  In  one  experiment 
(Fig.  70)  the  water  was  heated  at  the  rate  of  o.oo2°C 
(toVoo  of  a  degree  Fahrenheit)  per  second  ;  the  frog 
never  moved  and  at  the  end  of  two  and  one  half  hours 
was  found  dead.  He  had  evidently  been  boiled  without 
noticing  it.  * 

It  seems  very  strange  that  this  law  of  mental  life  should 


rate. 


Hot  and  Cold. 


121 


have  remained  unnoticed  so  long.  In  mechanics  we 
study  the  velocity  of  a  point ;  this  would  correspond  to  the 
rate  of  change  in  sensation.  Physiologists  have  proven 
that  in  experimenting  on  nerves  and  muscles  the  effect 
depends  on  the  rate  of  change.  From  psychological 
writers  we  have  heard  it  repeated 
ad  nauseam  that  there  is  no  con- 
sciousness without  change.  What 
a  little  step  it  is  to  the  statement 
that  our  appreciation  of  a  change 
depends  on  the  7'ate  of  change  ! 

After  all,  every  one  of  my  read- 
ers  has    discovered 
the    law    already. 
"Why,    how   tall 
you    have 


grown 
since  I  last  saw 
you  I ' '  exclaims  the 
visitor  who  has  not 
seen  Robbie  for 
three  months.  "Do  you  really  think  so?"  asks  the 
mother.  ' '  I  had  not  noticed  it. ' '  The  visitor  had  kept 
in  mind  Robbie's  picture  as  she  last  saw  him,  and  the 
change  to  the  real  Robbie  of  the  present  was  sudden. 
To  the  mother  the  change  had  been  gradual. 

There  is  a  curious  connection  between  temperature  and 
pressure.  Cold  or  hot  bodies  feel  heavier  than  bodies  of 
equal  weight  at  the  temperature  of  the  skin.  For  cold, 
take  two  silver  dollars  ;  keep  one  of  them  closed  in  the 
hand  to  give  it  the  temperature  of  the  skin,  but  cool  the 
other.  Apply  them  in  succession  to  the  palm  of  some 
one's  hand.  The  cold  one  will  seem  much  heavier, 
which  suggests  a  pleasant  means  of  illusion  for  the  poor 


Importance  of 
the  law. 


Fig.  70.     Boilino-  a  Frog  without  His  Knowing  it. 

No  Sensation  with  an  Extremely  Slow 

Rate  of  Change. 


Example. 


122  Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 

man.  Heat  does  not  make  so  much  difference  as  cold. 
For  a  successful  experiment  take  two  wooden  cylinders 
of  equal  weight  and  heat  one  very  hot  in  an  oven. 
Apply  the  cylinders  on  end  to  the  back  of  the  hand. 


CHAPTER  X. 

SMELL    AND    TASTE. 

Ix  SPITE  of  the   antiquity  of  lanoruae'e  we   have    no 

^       -  .        ^       ^  .       No  names  for 

names  for  smells.     A\  hen  we  notice  an  odor,  we  name  it  smells, 
bv  the  source  from  which  it   comes.     We  speak  of  the 
odor  of  violets,  of  new-mown  hay,  of  onions,  and  so  on, 
but  we  have  no  name  for  the  odor  itself. 

The  structure  of  the  smell  organs  in  the  nose  has 
been  studied  most  minutely  and  accurately  ;  their  anat- 
omy, as  the  science  is  called,  is  well  known.  The 
chemist  can  tell  us  accurately  concerning  most  of  the 
bodies  from  which  we  obtain  smells.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  the  facts  that  interest  us  most  of  all,  the  smells 
themselves,  have  been  neglected  by  science. 

The  lack  of  names  for  odors  is  very  curious,  especially 
because  such  a  lack  is  not  present  in  sight,  hearing,  or 
even  taste.  We  might  say  that  certain  things  taste  like 
sugar,  certain  others  like  quinine,  and  so  on  ;  but  that 
would  be  only  a  roundabout  way  of  saying  they  were 
"  sweet  "  or  "  sour."  Instead  of  classifying  the  colors, 
as  grass-color,  dandelion-color,  coal-color,  etc.,  we  say 
green,  yellow,  black,  etc.  But  in  smell  we  can  only 
speak  of  cabbage-odor,  fishy-odor,  violet-odor,  and  the 
like,  for  the  language  lacks  names  entirely. 

Not  only  do  we  have  no  names  for  odors  ;  we  do  not 

No  reason  for 

know  any  reason  why  different  things  smell  alike.     Why   resemblances. 
should  compounds  of  arsenic  smell  like  garlic?     If  we 


124 


Thinking,   Feeliyig,   Doing. 


Groups  of 
perfumes. 


Threshold  of 
smell. 


Olfactometer. 


mix  sulphuric  acid  with  water,  we  get  an  odor  like  musk. 
It  is  said  that  emeralds,  rubies,  and  pearls,  if  ground  to- 
gether for  a  long  time,  give  out  an  odor  like  that  of 
violets.     Again,  ringworm  of  the  scalp,  the  body  of  a 
patient  sick  with  typhus,  and  a  mouse  have  similar  odors. 

Perfumes  can  often  be  placed  in  similar  groups.  The 
rose  type  includes  geranium,  eglantine,  and  violet-ebony ; 
the  jasmine  type,  lily  of  the  valley  and  ylang-ylang  ;  the 
orange  type,  acacia,  syringa,  and  orange-flower  ;  the 
vanilla  type,  balsam  of  Peru,  benzoin,  storax,  tonka 
bean  (usually  sold  for  vanilla  extract),  and  heliotrope  ; 
the  lavender  type,  thyme  and  marjoram  ;  the  mint  type, 
peppermint,  balsam,  and  sage  ;  the  musk  type,  musk  and 
amber  seed  ;  the  fruity  type,  pear,  apple,  pine-apple,  and 
quince. 

What  is  the  threshold  of  smell  ?  There  is  a  conven- 
ient but  not  highly  accurate  way  of  answering  the  ques- 
tion by  means  of  what  I  shall  call  the  "  smeller  "  (olfac- 
tometer, or  smell-measurer). 

The  smeller  includes  a  glass  tube  (Fig.  71)  fastened 
on  a  narrow  board.      Inside  this  tube  is  a 
narrow  strip  of  blotting-paper   moistened 
with  the  object  to  be  smelled.     A  solution 


10    II     \Z    13    14    IS    16    17    18 


Fig.  71.     Olfactometer,  or  Smell-measurer. 


of  camphor  in  alcohol  is  convenient  ;  the  solution  dries, 
leaving  the  strip  filled  with  small  particles  of  camphor. 
Any  other  not  too  odorous  liquid  may  take  the  place 
of  the  camphor  solution.      Inside  this  tube  is  a  smaller 


Smell  and  Taste.  125 


one  on  the  end  of  which  is  a  piece  of  rubber  tubing.      A 
scale  is  marked  on  the  board  below  the  tubes. 

The  end  of  the  smaller  tube  is  pushed  to  the  end  of  Experiment, 
the  larger  one.  The  old  air  in  it  is  blown  out.  The  rub- 
ber tube  is  put  to  the  nose.  The  smaller  tube  is  now 
slowly  drawn  backward,  while  the  person  breathes  in  air 
through  it.  When  he  first  perceives  an  odor,  the  dis- 
tance through  which  the  smaller  tube  has  been  drawn 
from  the  end  of  the  larger  one,  is  noted.  Now,  the  fur- 
ther the  tube  is  drawn  back,  the  greater  the  distance 
over  the  blotter  traveled  by  the  air  breathed  ;  conse- 
quently there  is  more  of  the  camphor  odor  in  the  air. 

The  number  thus  noted  down  gives  an  idea,  though 
not  a  very  accurate  one,  of  the  person's  threshold  of 
smell. 

The  threshold  of  smell  will  often  be  found  to  be  differ- 
ent for  the  two  nostrils. 

In  the  whole  range  of  psychology  there  is  nowhere  Different 
to  be  found  a  more  striking  method  of  illustrating  the  k^now^edS^^ 
difference  between  the  different  thresholds  of  knowledge. 
As  the  smelling-tube  is  pulled  backward  the  observer 
at  first  notices  no  odor  ;  the  odor  is  said  to  be  below  the 
threshold.  After  a  while  he  says,  ' '  I  smell  something, 
but  I  can't  tell  what  it  is"  ;  a  sensation  is  there,  it  is 
known  as  an  odor  ;  it  has  passed  the  threshold  of  sen- 
sation but  has  not  reached  the  threshold  of  recognition 
(if  I  may  use  such  an  expression).  The  odor  becomes 
stronger  and  stronger  ;  finally  the  observer  exclaims, 
' '  Now  I  know  the  odor  ;  let  me  think  a  moment  and  I 
will  tell  you  the  name. ' '  Very  frequently  he  recognizes 
the  odor  without  being  able  to  recollect  the  name.  The 
difference  between  the  threshold  of  sensation  and  the 
threshold  of  recognition  is  often  considerable.       If  the 


,126 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Fatigue. 


Two  senses  of 
smell. 


odor  is  Still  further  increased,  the  name,  for  usual  sub- 
stances, is  readily  recollected. 

Our  sense  of  smell  can  be  fatigued.  Holding  a  piece 
of  camphor  for  some  minutes  before  the  nose  will  raise 
the  threshold  for  camphor.  With  an  olfactometer 
charged  with  camphor  the  threshold  as  measured  before 
fatiguing  the  sense  of  smell  will  be  found  to  be  much 
lower  than  the  threshold  afterwards.  Sometimes  the 
fatigue  is  so  great  that  the  smell  of  camphor  is  entirely 
lost.  The  cook  soon  ceases  to  notice  the  boiling 
cabbage,  which  appears  so  very  odorous  to  a  person 
just  entering  the  house.  The  only  way  to  live  with 
people  who  eat  onions  or  garlic  is  to  eat  them  your- 
self; in  a  double  sense,  when  in  Rome,  do  as  the  Ro- 
mans do. 

Strangely  enough  the  fatigue  affects  some  odors 'and 
not  others.  If  the  sense  be  affected  by  camphor-fatigue, 
the  smell  of  wax  will  be  diminished  or  lost,  but  essence 
of  cloves  will  appear  undiminished  in  strength. 

A  whole  laboratory  can  be  found  in  the  garden  and 
in  the  pantry — a  laboratory  that  has  hitherto  been  put 
to  little  use  for  psychology.  I  suggest  to  my  readers 
that  they  try  the  effect  of  fatigue  of  the  odor  of  one 
flower,  say  tuberose,  on  the  odors  of  other  flowers. 

We  have  two  senses  of  smell,  the  two  halves  of  the 
nose.  As  it  is  difficult  to  attend  to  two  things  at  the 
same  time,  it  is  but  natural  to  expect  that  we  cannot  at- 
tend to  both  halves.  Such  is  the  case.  When  two  dif- 
ferent smells  are  received,  one  from  each  organ,  we  are 
driven  to  notice  first  one,  then  the  other.  When 
roses  and  water-lilies  are  both  present  we  smell  the 
combination  of  both  ;  but  when  a  rose  is  placed  in  one 
paper  tube  and  a  water-lily  in  another  and  the  tubes  are 


Smell  and  Taste. 


127 


so  arranged  that  the  odors  get  to  separate  nostrils 
without  mixing,  we  do  not  smell  a  combination,  but 
alternately  either  rose  or  water-lily.  We  can  smell  either 
one  in  preference  to  the  other  by  simply  thinking  about 
it.  It  is  a  very  curious  fact  that  we  are  unable  to  think 
of  the    same   odor 


steadily;  our  thoughts 
irresistibly  turn  from 
one  to  the  other  and 
thus  the  smells  alter- 
nate. 

Such  experiments 
are  possible  to  every 
one  by  use  of  paper 
cones.  A  sheet  of 
paper  is  rolled  into 
the  shape  of  a  candy- 
horn  ;  the  small  end 
is  trimmed  off  to  fit  the  nostril, 
before   the  large  end  (Fig.    72) 


Fig.  72.    Alternation  of  Odors  ;  or  the 

Strife  of  the  Two  Nostrils. 


The  flower  is  placed 
Odorous  substances 
(perfumes)  placed  in  bottles  under  the  large  ends  can 
be  compared  in  a  similar  manner. 

The  greater  attention  paid  to  sight  and  hearing  has 
apparently  caused  a  neglect  of  smell  and  a  consequent 
deterioration.  The  acuteness  of  smell  among  animals  is 
well  known.  Among  certain  persons  this  sense  also  at- 
tains great  development.  I  have  a  case — reported  by  a 
perfectly  competent  witness  who  lived  for  years  with  the 
person  mentioned — of  a  woman  in  charge  of  a  boarding 
school  who  always  sorted  the  boys'  linen,  after  the  wash, 
by  the  odors  alone. 

For  the  tastes  we  are  much  better  off  than  for  the 
smells ;  we  have  names  for  them.     We  say  that  some- 


Experiment. 


Dullness  and 
acuteness  of 
smell. 


Names  for 
tastes. 


128 


Thinkiiig,  Feeling,   Doiiig. 


Flavors  due  to 
smell. 


Loss  of  smell. 


Flavor  of 
wines. 


thing  is  "sour,"  that  it  is  "sweet,"  etc.,  and  do  not 
need  to  name  the  taste  after  the  object. 

The  great  diversity  of  flavors  of  objects  is  due  mainly 
to  smell.  When  a  cold  in  the  head  injures  the  ability  to 
smell,  the  flavors  of  the  dinner-table  lose  their  value. 

Experiments  on  taste  without  smell  can  be  made  by 
filling  the  nose  cavity  with  water  while  the  head  is  in  an 
inverted  position ;  simply  holding  the  nose  without 
breathing  is  almost  as  good. 

When  the  sense  of  smell  is  entirely  lost  the  ordinary 
flavoring  syrups,  such  as  vanilla,  currant,  orange,  straw- 
berry, and  raspberry,  give  merely  a  sweetish  taste  with  no 
distinction  among  them.  Lemon  syrup  tastes  sweet  and 
sour.  Candies  flavored  in  this  way  taste  alike.  Mustard 
and  pepper  produce  sharp  sensations  on  the  tongue  ; 
there  is  no  difference  between  them  except  that  pepper 
is  sharper  ;  neither  produces  a  real  taste.  Tea  does  not 
differ  from  water  or  coflee,  Rhine  wine  from  diluted  vin- 
egar. Ginger  and  cloves  are  alike.  Powdered  cinnamon, 
when  placed  on  the  tongue  of  a  person  whose  eyes  are 
closed  and  whose  nose  is  held  between  the  fingers,  is 
considered  to  be  like  meal. 

Wines  owe  their  bouquet  entirely  to  smell.  The  most 
exquisite  Schloss  Johannisberger  does  not  differ  from 
diluted  vinegar  as  far  as  taste  goes.  The  wines  of  East- 
ern Prussia  are  reputed  to  be  at  present  good  for  nothing 
but  to  make  vinegar,  whereas  in  olden  times  they  were 
considered  good.  This  has  been  used  as  an  argument  to 
prove  that  the  climate  has  changed ;  a  much  simpler  ex- 
planation is  that  the  early  Prussians,  owing  to  defective 
development  of  the  sense  of  smell,  did  not  know  the  dif- 
ferences among  good  wine,  poor  wine,  and  vinegar. 

Coffee  likewise  owes  its  flavor  to  smell.     Boiled  coflee 


Smell  and  Taste,  129 


has  lost  its  aroma  and  is  merely  a  combination   of  sour    , 

■'  _  Aromas. 

and  bitter.  Through  unpardonable  stupidity  pepper  is 
always  served  ground  and  consequently  odorless,  the 
little  German  pepper-mills  being  unknown  in  America. 

■iTiT-i  11  11  1  11  Classification 

When  all  smells  and  touch  and  temperature  sensa-  of  tastes. 
tions  are  gotten  rid  of,  the  things  we  taste  can  be  sorted 
into  six  different  classes  :  sour,  sweet,  salt,  bitter,  metal- 
lic, alkaline,  and  their  combinations.  Characteristic  ex- 
amples of  these  are  found  in  lemon  juice,  sugar,  salt, 
quinine,  zinc,  and  washing  soda. 

This  does  not  mean  that  we  experience  only  those  six 

r^-,  1  ,  -  .         -      .        Combination  of 

tastes.  Ine  elementary  tastes  can  be  combmed  m  tastes. 
countless  ways.  Thus,  sweet  and  sour  when  combined 
produce  a  result  that  is  neither  sweet  nor  sour,  but  dif- 
ferent from  either  while  resembling  both.  Unfortunately 
psychologists  have  not  attempted  to  unravel  the  com- 
pound tastes  into  their  elements. 

Probably  no  more  convenient  or  striking  illustration   Threshold, 
of  the  threshold  can  be  presented  than  in  experiments  on 
taste. 

The  threshold  for  sweetness  can  be  found  by  using-  a   ^^     u  ^   r 

■'  ^  Threshold  of 

solution  of  sugar  of  known  strength.  An  ounce  of  sweetness. 
sugar  dissolved  in  twenty  ounces  of  water  makes  a  five 
per  cent  solution.  For  simple  illustration  it  is  sufficient 
to  place  a  spoonful  of  sugar  in  a  small  wine-glass  of 
water.  Some  pure  drinking  water  and  two  medicine 
droppers  are  to  be  provided. 

A  small  glass  is  used,  preferably  a  graduated  med- 
icine glass,  containing  one  ounce  of  pure  water.  With 
one  of  the  droppers  a  quantity  of  the  sugar  solution  is 
taken  up  ;  one  drop  is  allowed  to  fall  into  the  water. 
The  water  is  then  stirred  with  the  other  dropper  ;  a 
small  quantity  is  taken   up   in  it  and  one   drop   of  this 


i,30 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Other 
thresholds. 


Intensity  de- 
pendent on 
quantity. 


Intensification 
of  one  taste  by 
another. 


homeopathic  solution  is  allowed  to  fall  on  the  tongue  of 
the  person  tested.  He  will  not  taste  anything,  owing  to 
the  extreme  dilution.  The  experiment  is  repeated,  add- 
ing one  drop  each  time,  till  a  taste  is  noticed.  The  num- 
ber of  drops  used  will  indicate  the  threshold  of  taste. 
If  the  five  per  cent  solution  and  a  graduated  glass  have 
been  used,  it  is  an  easy  matter  to  calculate  just  how 
strong  this  least  noticeable  taste  is. 

Similar  experiments  can  be  made  with  salt,  quinine, 
acid,  and  alkali.  The  most  convenient  solutions  to  use 
are  sugar,  5  per  cent ;  quinine,  0.002  per  cent  ;  tartaric 
acid,  o.  5  per  cent ;  salt,  2  per  cent ;  sodium  carbonate, 
o.  I  per  cent. 

To  avoid  the  effect  of  suggestion  it  is  advisable  to 
have  more  than  one  solution  ready  and  not  to  let  the 
person  tested  know  which  is  being  used. 

How  far  the  education  of  the  sense  of  smell  can  be  car- 
ried is  shown  by  the  tea-tasters,  who  can  tell  the  locality 
from  which  each  chest  of  tea  comes. 

Our  appreciation  of  a  taste  depends  on  its  quantity. 
A  single  drop  of  sugar  solution  on  the  tongue  does  not 
seem  so  sweet  as  a  mouthful. 

It  is  a  very  curious  fact  that  a  weak  sensation  of  taste 
of  one  kind  can  be  made  to  strengthen  a  taste  of  another 
kind.  If  two  glasses  of  water  be  equally  sweetened, 
one  of  them  can  be  made  to  appear  sweeter  by 
adding  a  minute  quantity  of  quinine  powder.  This  is  a 
fact  which  the  cook  must  not  make  use  of  The  only 
other  similar  case  that  I  know  of  occurs  in  hearing. 
Some  partially  deaf  persons  can  hear  much  better  in  the 
midst  of  a  noise.  This  is  usually  explained  on  purely 
physiological  grounds,  but  there  is  a  possibility  of  an  ex- 
planation on  the  ground  that  the  mind  would  naturally 


Smell  and   Taste.  131 


lump   in  a  very  weak  sensation   of  any   kind  with   the 
stronger  one. 

Some  of  the  pecuHarities  of  flavors  are  due  to  feeHngs  Taste  with 
of  touch  on  the  tongue.  Soda  water  and  champagne  ^°^^^- 
stimulate  the  tongue  by  the  fine  bubbles  that  they  give 
ofl".  Pepper  and  mustard  produce  an  agreeable  irrita- 
tion. Puckery  substances,  such  as  raw  quinces,  act  as 
the  name  implies.  All  such  touch  sensations  are  not 
tastes,  although  they  and  the  smells  enter  into  the  flavors 
of  things. 

Sour  tastes  are  accompanied  by  touch.  This  can  be 
brought  out  clearly  in  a  series  of  experiments.  We  be-  toS.^^^  ^" 
gin  with  a  very  weak  solution  of  the  acid,  so  weak  that 
it  seems  like  water  when  tasted.  As  it  is  made  a  trifle 
stronger,  first  a  slight  puckery  feeling  appears,  even  be- 
fore the  person  experimented  upon  notices  any  sourness. 
By  a  little  increase  in  the  strength  the  sour  taste  is  made 
to  appear  also.  When  the  sour  taste  becomes  very 
strong,  a  burning  sensation  is  felt  at  the  same  time. 

When    we  begin  with  a  weak  solution   of  salt    and  Saltiness  and 
make   it  successively  stronger,   the   taste   appears  first. 
Later   a   weak,    burning  sensation  is  felt ;  this  steadily 
increases  but  never  overpowers  the  taste  as  in  the  case 
of  sour  things. 

With  a  solution  of  sugar  made  steadily  stronger  a  sweetness  and 
feeling  of  softness  appears  before  the  taste.  Then  the 
taste  is  most  prominent.  With  a  very  strong  solution 
we  get  the  feelings  of  slipperiness  and  stickiness,  as  in 
honey  and  syrup.  With  saccharine  (an  intensely  sweet 
substance)  the  touch  sensations  are  present  but  not  so 
prominent. 

With  bitter  solutions   made  successively  stronger,   a   Bitterness  and 
fatty,  smooth  sensation  appears  before  the  taste.     There-   '°"^^- 


132  Thinking,   Feeli^ig,   Doing. 


after  the  bitterness  is  most  prominent.  With  pure 
quinine  the  bitterness  o\'erpowers  e^'erything,  no  matter 
how  strong  the  solution.  With  quinine  sulphate  or 
chloride  the  very  strong  solutions  are  more  or  less  burn- 
ing. 

Taste  and  It  is  a  curious  but  Uninvestigated  fact  that  tempera- 

temperature.  ,.,         .       1  .    n 

ture  likewise  has  an  mnuence. 

Let  equal  quantities  of  water  be  placed  in  two  tin 
cups,  and  let  one  cup  be  heated.  Then  if  the  same 
quantity  of  lemon  juice  or  any  sour  solution  be 
dropped  into  each,  the  warmer  solution  will  taste  sourer 
than  the  cooler  one. 

If  a  sweet  solution  be  tried  in  the  same  way,  the 
cooler  solution  will  be  the  sweeter. 

Now  we  can  understand  why  housewives  do  not 
sweeten  the  rhubarb  sauce  till  it  is  cool.  If  they 
sweeten  it  to  taste  while  cooking,  the  acid  taste  will 
be  stronger  and  much  sugar  will  be  required  ;  when 
served  cool  on  the  table  it  will  be  too  sweet. 


i 


CHAPTER     XI. 


HEARING. 


Among  the  many  sounds  that  we  hear  we  generally  ^^^^^^  ^^^ 
make  a  classification  into  tones  and  noises.  Pleasant  noises, 
sounds,  like  those  of  a  flute,  we  call  tones  ;  unpleasant 
ones,  like  those  of  escaping  steam,  rumbling  wagons,  or 
screeching  parrots,  we  call  noises.  This  is  only  a  con- 
venient way  of  sorting  sounds.  Very  many — if  not 
most — sounds  are  either  tones  or  noises  according  to  the 
point  of  view.  A  jumble  of  piano-tones  is  a  noise. 
The  scraping  of  a  violin  produces  a  noise  in  the  hands 
of  a  beginner  and  passes  gradually  from  noise  to  tone  as 
skill  is  acquired.  A  block  of  hard  wood  when  struck 
makes  a  noise  ;  yet  we  call  the  same  sound  a  tone  when 
the  block  of  wood  is  one  of  the  notes  of  a  xylophone. 

In  a  simple  tone  three  properties  are  to  be  noticed  :    properties  of 
(i)  pitch,  (2)  intensity,  (3)  duration. 

As  the  finger  is  slid  up  or  down  the  violin  string,  we 
hear  changes  in  the  pitch  of  the  tone.  As  the  bow  is 
drawn  harder  or  softer  against  the  string,  we  hear 
changes  in  the  intensity,  or  loudness.  As  the  tone  is 
continued  for  a  longer  or  a  shorter  time,  we  hear  changes 
in  duration. 

We  are  so  accustomed  to  saying  that  tones  are 
' '  high  "  or  "  low, ' '  that  there  seems  to  be  really  some- 
thing high  or  low  about  them.  We  might,  however, 
just  as  well  call  the  bass  tones  high.     This  naming  of 


Pitch,  intensity 
duration. 


High  "  and 
low  "  pitch. 


134 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Extending  the 
range  of  pitch. 


Lowest  tone. 


the  tones  according  to  our  notions  of  space  is  derived 
from  the  Middle  Ages.  The  old  Sanskrit  terms  meant 
' '  loud ' '  and  ' '  soft ' ' ;  the  Hebrew  was  ' '  audible ' '  and 
'  *  deep ' ' ;  the  Greek  was  ' '  low ' '  and  ' '  high ' '  in  ex- 
actly the  opposite  meaning  to  ours.  The  Latin  was 
simply  a  translation  of  the  Greek  words  for  ' '  acute ' ' 
and  ' '  grave ' '  ;  and  the  modern  Romance  languages, 
like  the  French,  retain  the  Latin  terms.  In  the  Middle 
Ages  it  was  customary  to  speak  of  ascending  and  de- 
scending ;  it  is  from  this  that  German  and  English  prob- 
ably derive  the  highness  and  lowness  of  tones. 

Starting  from  the  middle  of 
the  piano,  run  the  scale  down 
toward  the  left.  The  lowest  tone 
is  very  deep  and  shaky.  Start- 
ing again,  run  the  scale  up  to  the 
right.  The  high  tones  sound  shrill 
and  tinkling.  What  would  happen 
if  the  piano  received  lower  and 
lower  tones,  or  higher  and  higher 
tones,  going  on  as  long  as  we 
pleased  ? 

To  produce  tones  lower  than  the 
tones  of  the  musical  instruments 
gigantic  tuning-forks  over  a  yard 
long  have  been  made.  The  way 
tuning-forks  vibrate  has  been  ex- 
plained on  page  104.  The  prongs 
are  furnished  with  weights.  As  the 
weights  are  moved  toward  the  ends 
the  tone  sinks  lower  and  lower.  In 
a  short  time  weak  puffs  are  heard  in 
addition  to  the  tone,  each  puff  corresponding  to  a  single 


Fig.   73.      Giant   Fork  for 

Finding  the  Lowest 

Audible  Tone. 


Hearing. 


135 


movement  of  the  prongs.  Finally  the  tone  disappears 
entirely,  leaving  nothing  but  puffs.  The  point  at  which 
the  tone  disappears  is  called  the  lower  limit  of  pitch,  or 
the  threshold  of  pitch. 

This  lower  limit  is  different  for  different  persons 


It 


•  1 1 


is  generally  at  about  twelve  com- 
plete vibrations  per  second.  Some 
persons,  however,  have  been 
found  who  cannot  hear  even  the 
lower  tones  of  the  piano.  Even 
the  lowest  tone  of  a  large  organ 
at  thirty-two  vibrations  per  second 
seems  to  some  persons  to  be  wavy. 

Going  upward  in  the  scale  we 
can  proceed  far  beyond  the  piano. 
The  test  can  be  made  with  a  set 
of  small  tuning-forks  or  small  steel 
bars.  It  is  most  conveniently 
done  with  the  Galton  whistle  (Fig. 
74).  This  whistle  can  be  altered 
in  length  by  a  screw-cap.  As  it 
is  made  shorter  the  tone  rises.  By 
means  of  a  scale  marked  on  the 
barrel  the  pitch  of  the  tone  can  be 
calculated. 

The  highest  audible  tone  has 
been  found  to  be  \'ery  different  for 
different  persons.  To  some  per- 
sons even  the  highest  tones  of  the  piano  are  silent. 
Others  again  can  hear  even  up  to  60,000  vibrations  or 
more  per  second.  The  position  of  such  a  high  tone 
would  be  musically  indicated  by  the  notation  given  in 
the  margin. 


Fig.  74.  Too  Shrill  for  Hear- 
ing. Whistle  for  Determin- 
ing the  Highest  Audible 
Tone. 


Test  for  the 
hifi-hest  tone. 


-I— 


136  Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 

Robert  Franz,  the  composer  of  the  music  to  Burns' s 
"  My  Highland  Lassie,"  in  1842  lost  all  the  tones  from 
E^  upward  in  consequence  of  the  whistle  of  a  locomotive. 
In  the  following  years  he  lost  two  half-tones  more,  so 
that  in  1864  he  heard  nothing  above  Dl* 

The  sound  of  a  cricket  is  not  heard  by  some  persons. 
I  cannot  hear  the  squeak  of  a  bat  but  believe,  on  author- 
ity, that  it  does  make  a  sound.  Many  people  cannot 
hear  the  shrill  squeak  of  a  mouse.  When  singing  mice 
are  exhibited,  some  people  who  go  to  hear  them  declare 
that  they  can  hear  nothing,  others  can  hear  barely  some- 
thing, and  others  again  can  hear  much. 

It  has  also  been  noticed  that  as  a  person  grows  older 

Effect  of  age.  ^^  loscs  his  powcr  of  hearing  high  tones.  The  persons 
themselves  are  quite  unconscious  of  their  deficiency  so 
long  as  their  ability  to  hear  low  tones  remains  unim- 
paired. It  is  an  amusing  experiment  to  test  a  party  of 
persons  of  various  ages,  including  some  rather  elderly 
and  self-satisfied  personages.  They  are  indignant  at 
being  thought  deficient  in  the  power  of  hearing,  yet  the 
experiment  quickly  shows  that  they  are  absolutely  deaf 
to  shrill  notes  which  the  younger  persons  hear  acutely, 
and  they  commonly  betray  much  dislike  to  the  discovery. 
Such  persons  should  be  comforted  by  the  fact  that  every 
one  has  his  limit.  Sensitive  flames  have  been  found  to 
be  powerfully  affected  by  vibrations  that  are  too  rapid 
for  ordinary  ears. 

Limited  range         ^^  somc  pcrsous  the  uppcr  limit  of  pitch  is  very  low. 

of  high  tones,      j^  -^   related    of  Mr.    Cowles,   an   American   journalist, 


"  The  reader  is  reminded  that  the  successive  octaves  of  the 
scale  are  indicated  by  small  figures.  Thus  C-2,  C-i,  0°,  C^,  C2, 
etc.,  indicate  the  successive  C's  of  the  scale  ;  Ci  is  middle  C. 
The  other  notes  are  treated  likewise. 


Hearing.  137 

that  it  was  not  until  he  was  twenty-five  years  of  age  that 
he  became  perfectly  cognizant  of  his  defect.  Up  to  this 
time  he  had  treated  all  he  read  about  the  songs  of  birds  as 
nothing  more  or  less  than  poetical  fiction.  To  him  birds 
were  perfectly  mute  ;  and  he  was  perfectly  deaf  to  the 
shrillest  and  highest  notes  of  the  piano,  fife,  or  other 
musical  instruments.  At  length,  after  considerable 
pains,  he  was  convinced  that  he  labored  under  some  de- 
fect of  hearing.  When  put  to  the  test  in  a  room  where 
a  large  number  of  canary  birds  were  singing  very  loudly, 
he  declared  he  could  not  hear  the  slightest  sound,  even 
when  placed  close  to  their  cages.  Moreover,  it  was 
found  that  all  the  sibilant  sounds  of  the  human  voice 
were  equally  inaudible.  In  all  other  respects  his  hear- 
ing was  perfect. 

It  is  an  interesting  matter  of  speculation  to  consider   Matters  for 
all  the  tones  we  might  still  hear  if  our  range  of  pitch   speculation, 
extended  higher.      As  a  consolation  we  may  remember 
what  shrill  sounds  we  now  escape. 

The  question  arises  :  When  the  whistle  is  too  high  for 
some  persons  to  hear  but  not  too  high  for  others,  does  it 
produce  tones  ?  This  I  will  leave  as  a  nut  to  crack  ; 
"  much  can  be  said  on  both  sides." 

Galton,  the  inventor  of  the  whistle,  relates  that  he  has  Highest  tone  for 
gone  through  the  whole  of  the  Zoological  Gardens, 
using  a  cane  with  a  whistle  at  one  end  and  a  bulb  at  the 
other.  He  held  it  near  the  ears  of  the  animals  and 
when  they  were  quite  accustomed  to  the  cane  he  would 
blow  the  whistle.  Then  if  they  pricked  their  ears  it  showed 
that  they  heard  the  whistle;  if  they  did  not  it  was  probably 
inaudible  to  them.  Of  all  creatures  he  found  none  su- 
perior to  cats  in  hearing  shrill  sounds  ;  cats,  of  course, 
have  to  deal  with  mice  and  find  them  out  by  their  squeal- 


animals. 


Thinkijig^   Feelings   Doing. 


Influence  of 
intensity. 


Pitch  is 
continuous. 


ing.  A  cat  that  is  at  a  very  considerable  distance  can  be 
made  to  turn  its  ear  around  by  sounding  a  note  that  is 
inaudible  to  almost  any  human  ear.  Small  dogs  also 
hear  very  shrill  notes,  but  large  ones  do  not.  At  Bern, 
where  there  appear  to  be  more  large  dogs  lying  idly  about 
the  streets  than  in  any  other  large  town  in  Europe, 
Galton  tried  his  cane-whistle  on  them  for  hours  together 
but  could  not  find  one  that  heard  it.  Nearly  all  the  lit- 
tle dogs  he  met  would  turn  around. 

Curiously  eno\(igh  the  height  to  which  we  can    hear 

depends  on  the 
strength  of  the 
sound.  The  results 
of  specially  made 
experiments  are 
shown  in  Fig.  75. 
The  figures  at  the 
bottom  indicate  the 
relative  intensities 
of  the  blast  of  the 
whistle  ;  thus  the 
strongest  tone  used, 
250,  was  five  times 
as  strong  as  50,  the 
weakest  one.  The 
figures  at  the  left 
indicate  the  pitch  of  the  highest  audible  tone  for  six  dif- 
ferent persons.  At  50  for  the  person  (F)  the  tone  was 
lost  at  10,000  vibrations,  all  above  that  being  unheard. 
At  100  he  heard  to  about  20,000  ;  at  150  to  27,000,  etc. 
Between  the  upper  and  lower  limits  of  pitch  the  tones 
do  not  advance  by  steps  as  in  the  piano  but  continu- 
ously as  in  tuning  a  violin  string.      In  other  words,  there 


Fig.  75.     The  Highest  Audible  Tone  as  De- 
pendent on  Intensity. 


Hearing. 


139 


is  an  unbroken  range  of  tone,  except  in  a  few  defective 
ears  where  portions  of  this  range  are  lacking. 

What  is  the  least  difference  in  pitch  that  can  be 
noticed  ?  Suppose  that  a  violin  is  being  tuned  to  an- 
other one  or  to  a  pitch-pipe,  how  nearly  can  we  get  it 
to  an  exact  match?  The  fact  that  some  persons  cannot 
match  tones  as  well  as  others  is  made  plain  by  a  few 
trials. 

We  wish,  however,  to  get  a  measurement  of  the  ex- 
actness to  which  we  can  judge  tones,  or,  in  other  words, 
the  accuracy  with  which  differences  between  tones  can  be 
detected.  This  can  be  done  by  comparing  a  tuning-fork 
carrying  an  adjustable  weight  with  one  that  remains  al- 
ways the  same.  As  the  weight  is  moved  toward  the 
ends  of  the  prongs,  the  tone  is  lowered  ;  as  it  is  moved 
toward  the  stem,  it  is  raised. 
Such  a  pair  of  forks  is 
shown  in  Fig.  76. 

The  standard  fork  makes 
the  same  sound  as  the 
weighted  fork  when  the 
weights  are  in  the  middle 
at  o.  The  standard  fork 
is  first  sounded.  Then  af- 
ter about  three  seconds  the 
other  is  sounded.  The  per- 
son hearing  them  says  at 
once  whether  he  can  detect 
a  difference  in  pitch  or  not.    ^ig.  76.    Forks  of  Adjustahie  pitch  for 

r  Finding  the  Least  Noticeable 

If  he  says.  No,  the  weights  Difference, 

are  moved  a  short  distance  toward  the  stem  and  the 
experiment  is  repeated.  This  is  continued  till  he  de- 
tects a  difference,  whereby  the  weighted  fork  is  higher 


Least  notice- 
able difference 
in  pitch,  or 
threshold  of 
difference. 


Apparatus 
therefor. 


Making  the 
experiment. 


140  Thinkings   Feelmg^   Doing. 

than  the  standard.     This  difference  is  called  the  least 
noticeable  difference,  or  the  threshold  of  difference. 
Instead  of  a  fork  with  adjustable  weights  a  series  of 
Another  way  of  slightly  differing  forks  can  be  used.     To  prepare  such  a 

experimenting.  .  ,  ..       •         r     1         11     n 

series  a  dozen  or  more  common  tunmg-lorks  all  alike  are 
obtained.  The  pitch  of  a  fork  can  be  raised  by  slightly 
filing  the  ends  of  the  prongs  ;  it  can  be  lowered  by  filing 
the  prongs  near  the  stem.  Select  one  of  the  forks  as  the 
standard.  Strike  the  standard  and  another  fork  at  the 
same  time,  making  them  sound  more  loudly  by  resting 
them  on  the  table  or  holding  them  opposite  the  two  ears. 
If  they  are  in  the  proper  condition  a  single  smooth  tone 
will  be  heard.  Now  with  a  file  slightly  scrape  the  ends  of 
the  two  prongs  of  the  second  fork,  and  sound  them  again. 
Tuning  the  If  the  filing  has  been  sufficient,  the  sound  now  heard  will 
^'^  ^'  not  be  smooth  and  even,  but  will  appear  to  wave  between 

weak  and  loud  ;  often  the  forks  will  appear  to  say,  ' '  wow- 
u-wow-u-wow-u,"  etc.  This  peculiar  effect  is  called  a 
beat.  It  is  known  that  the  number  of  beats  in  one  sec- 
ond is  the  same  as  the  difference  in  the  number  of  vibra- 
tions in  one  second.  By  counting  the  beats  for  four  or 
five  seconds  the  difference  between  the  two  forks  can 
be  readily  determined.  If  the  second  fork  is  too 
high  in  pitch,  it  is  filed  more  at  the  ends  ;  if  it  is  too  low, 
it  is  filed  more  at  the  stem.  In  this  manner  a  whole  set 
of  forks  can  be  obtained,  differing  by  slight  steps.  For 
example,  a  convenient  set  is  that  of  A^  "435  as  a  stand- 
ard, with  the  other  forks  436,  437,  etc.,  as  far  as  one  has 
a  mind  to  go.  The  preparation  of  such  a  series  is  some- 
what laborious  and,  to  fulfil  all  requirements,  is  some- 
what expensive,  owing  to  the  large  number  of  forks 
needed  to  provide  for  all  ears  from  the  finest  to  the  coars- 
est.    When  the  series  is  complete,  the  standard  is  com- 


Hearing. 


141 


pared  with  each  in  succession  in  the  same  way  as  with 
the  adjustable  fork  until  the  just  noticeably  different  fork 
is  found. 

Just  as  the  threshold  of  difference  is  determined  for  Extension  of 
a  rise  in  pitch,  so  there  is  a  threshold  for  a  fall  in  pitch.  ^  expenmen  . 
The  weights  are  started  at  the  points  where  the  two  forks 
give  the  same  tone.  In  successive  experiments  the 
weights  are  moved  toward  the  prongs  so  that  the  tone 
of  the  weighted  fork  is  repeatedly  lowered.  Finally  the 
difference  becomes  noticeable.  This  is  the  point  at  the 
threshold  of  difference  downward  in  pitch. 

As  there  is  some  difficulty  in  finding  out  just  what  the   The  tone-tester, 
pitch  of  the  fork  is  for  each  position  of  the  weights,  and 


Fig.  77.    The  Tone-tester. 

as  the  performance  of  these  experiments  takes  a  great 
deal  of  time,  a  more  convenient  instrument,  called  a 
tone-tester,  has  been  devised.  It  consists  of  an  adjust- 
able pitch-pipe  B  fastened  to  a  plate  A.     To  the  regu- 


142 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Dohig. 


Its  use. 


Experiments  on 
school  children. 


lating  rod  C  a  long  arm  D  is  fastened,  which  is  moved 
by  the  handle  E.  As  C  is  moved  inward,  the  tone  of  the 
pitch-pipe  rises.  As  it  is  moved  outward,  the  tone  falls. 
Each  movement  makes  a  change  in  the  position  of  the 
pointer.  The  tone-tester  is  com.pared  beforehand  with 
a  carefully  tuned  piano  to  determine  the  position  of  the 
pointer  when  the  pipe  gives  A  of  concert  pitch.  This 
position  is  marked  at  A  435  in  the  illustration.  The 
figures  mean  that  at  this  point  the  whistle  makes  a  tone  of 
435  vibrations  per  second.  In  the  same  manner  the  suc- 
ceeding notes  are  settled.  The  spaces  are  then  subdi- 
vided by  the  eye  into  thirty-seconds  of  a  tone. 

To  make  the  experiment,  the  pointer  is  placed  at  A 
and  the  pipe  is  blown  for  an  instant.  The  pointer  is  then 
moved  upward  one  mark,  and  after  about  two  seconds 
the  pipe  is  again  sounded.  The  person  experimented 
upon  tells  if  he  hears  a  difference.     The  experiment  is 

repeated,  starting 
with  A  every  time, 
till  a  difference  is 
heard.  In  a  similar 
manner  the  differ- 
ence below  A  is 
found. 

In  experiments 
made  on  a  number  of 
New  Haven  school 
children  the  accu- 
racy in  detecting 
differences  was 
found  to  increase 
with  age.  The  re- 
sults are  shown  in  Fig.  78.     The  distance  along  the  bot- 


Fig.  78.    Error  in  Hearing  Decreases  with  Age 

from  6  years  (at  the  left)  to  19  years 

(at  the  right). 


Hearing.  1 43 

torn  indicates  the  age,  beginning  at  six  and  ending  at 
nineteen.  The  distance  upward  indicates  the  number  of 
thirty-seconds  of  a  tone  that  could  be  detected.  The 
smaller  the  number,  the  lower  the  irregular  line  and  the 
more  acute  the  child's  ear. 

There  is  another  and  perhaps  more  important  threshold  Threshold  of 
to  be  found  than  the  threshold  of  difference,  namely,  the  ^  ^"^^' 
threshold  of  change.  Almost  all  the  experiments  of 
psychologists  have  been  confined  to  the  threshold  of  dif- 
ference ;  I  have  lately  called  attention  to  this  threshold 
of  change  and  to  the  fact  that  it  is  an  entirely  different 
thing  from  the  other. 

The  threshold  of  change  can  be  illustrated  by  starting 
the  tone  at  A  and  raising  or  lowering  it  continuously 
till  a  difference  is  noticed.  I  have  succeeded  in  proving 
that  the  least  perceptible  change  varies  with  the  rate,  as 
in  temperature  (p.  120),  but  have  not  been  able  to  accu- 
rately determine  the  relation. 

These  experiments  give  the  thresholds  only  for  A  =  ^anbe 
435.     For  the  neighboring  tones  the  pointer  is  started  an^tolle^^  ^°^ 
in  the  positions  marked  on  the  scale.      For  more  distant 
tones  other  pitch-pipes  would  be  needed. 

There  is  another  mental  fact  closely  related  to  the    , 

•'     _  _  Accuracy  of 

tone-threshold  but  not  quite  identical  with  it,  namely,  tone-judgment. 
the  accuracy  of  tone-judgment.  Suppose  we  have  two 
forks  almost  but  not  quite  alike  in  pitch.  If  we  sound 
them  in  succession,  we  sometimes  detect  the  difference, 
sometimes  not.  It  is  evident  that  for  the  same  pair  of 
forks  the  sharper  ear  will  detect  the  difference  more  fre- 
quently than  the  duller  ear. 

The  experiment  is  performed  in  the  following  way.  ^akino-  the 
Three  forks  are  provided  ;  tw^o  of  them  are  exactly  experiment, 
alike,  the  third  is  slightly  different.     The  person  tested 


144 


Thinkmg,   Feeliyig,    Doing. 


Results. 


Extreme  cases. 


is  seated  with  his  back  to  the  experimenter.  The  ex- 
perimenter strikes  two  forks  in  succession  ;  the  person 
tested  says  at  once  whether  they  are  the  same  or  differ- 
ent. Suppose  he  says,  Different  ;  if  they  were  really  dif- 
ferent the  experimenter  records  one  right  answer.  Sup- 
pose he  says,  Same  ;  if  they  were  really  different  the  ex- 
perimenter records  one  wrong  answer.  No  record  is  made 
of  the  experiments  with  the  two  forks  that  are  really  the 
same,  as  they  are  introduced  merely  to  avoid  prejudice 
on  the  part  of  the  person  experimented  upon.  The  ex- 
perimenter finally  counts  up  the  total  number  of  experi- 
ments with  the  two  really  different  forks  and  the  number 
of  correct  answers  to  these  forks.  For  example,  if 
there  were  twenty-five  experiments  in  which  the  different 
forks  were  used  and  fifteen  correct  answers,  the  accuracy 
of  judging  this  particular  tone-difference  can  be  stated 
for  this  particular  person  as  if,  or  60  per  cent.  With  a 
greater  difference  between  the  two  tones  the  percentage 
of  correct  answers  will,  of  course,  be  greater.  By  using 
the  same  difference  the  relative  accuracy  for  different 
persons  can  be  ascertained. 

The  threshold  differs  greatly  for  different  persons. 
Fine  ears  have  been  found  that  will  detect  a  difference 
of  less  than  half  a  vibration  in  tones  between  B'^  =  120 
and  B"  =  1,000.  Such  observers  can  distinguish  over 
1,200  different  tones  within  the  octave  B^  to  B-. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  uncommon  to  meet  per- 
sons who  can  hardly  distinguish  two  neighboring  tones. 
In  fact,  one  case  is  reported  of  a  well-educated  man  who 
had  been  unable  to  learn  music  in  any  way.  It  was 
found  that  he  could  not  tell  the  difference  between  any 
two  neighboring  tones  of  the  piano.  Between  the  low- 
est tone  and  the  highest  he  found  a  very  great  difference, 


Hearing. 


145 


but  when  the  scale  was  run  from  one  end  to  the  other 
the  change  of  tone  appeared  continuous  and  not  by 
steps.  In  the  middle  regions  of  the  scale  he  could  not 
tell  apart  tones  forming  an  interval  less  than  a  third ;  in 
the  upper  and  lower  regions  the  interval  had  to  be  a 
septime,  an  octave,  or  sometimes  something  still  greater. 
If  a  low  tone  be  sounded,  then  a  medium  one,  and 
then  a  high  one,  we  can  tell  whether  the  middle  one  is 
half  way  between  the  two  extremes  or  not.      Musical  in- 


Finding  the 

middle  tone. 


Fig.  79.    Apparatus  for  Finding  the  Middle  Tone. 

struments  cannot  well  be  used  for  this  experiment  as 
their  tones  are  not  simple  but  very  complex  ;  they  intro- 
duce great  errors  into  the  result.  By  using  tuning-forks 
perfectly  pure  tones  are  obtainable. 

The  arrangement  for  this  experiment  is  shown  in  Fig.  Apparatus. 
79.  Three  tuning-forks,  i,  2,  3,  are  placed  before  ad- 
justable boxes,  or  resonators,  I.,  II.,  III.  From  each 
resonator  a  rubber  tube  leads  to  a  general  tube  s  which 
runs  through  double  walls  <?  to  a  distant  room  where  the 
person  experimented  upon  puts  the  end  o  to  his  ear. 

In  front  of  each  box  there  is  a  movable  cover  which 
can  be  pulled  aside  by  a  string.     Suppose  the  forks  are 


146 


Thinki7ig,   Feelijig^   Doing. 


Results. 


Intensity  of 
tones. 


Apparatus. 


Experiment. 


sounding,  the  observer  in  the  distant  room  hears  nothing 
till  one  of  these  covers  is  pulled  aside. 

Fork  I  is  selected  as  a  low  fork,  fork  3  is  selected  as 
a  higher  one,  and  fork  2  is  adjustable  by  weights.  The 
forks  are  sounded  in  succession,  i,  2,  3  or  3,  2,  i.  The 
observer  tells  whether  fork  2  is  properly  adjusted  to  be 
in  the  middle  or  not. 

The  results  indicate  that  our  estimates  do  not  follow 
the  musical  scale.  For  example,  if  the  extreme  tones 
be  O  =  256  vibrations  and  C^  =512  vibrations,  the 
middle  chosen  will  on  the  average  be  G^  =  384  vibra- 
tions. This  is,  counting  by  vibrations,  just  half  way, 
but,  according  to  our  musical  scale,  it  is  nearer  the  upper 
tone.  Likewise,  if  the  extremes  be  C^  =  256  and 
C^  =:  1,024,  the  middle  will  be  about  O  =  840  and  not 
C-  —  512. 

We  have  seen  that  everybody  is  deaf  to  very  high 
tones  and  to  very  low  tones.  What  about  very  weak 
tones  ? 

The  first  requirement  is  a  tone  whose  intensity  can  be 
varied.  This  can  be  provided  in  many  ways.  The 
simplest  plan  is  to  use  an  electric  tuning-fork  in  the 
manner  shown  in  Fig.  80.  A  magnet  between  the  prongs 
of  the  fork  keeps  it  in  motion  electrically.  The  electric 
current  is  broken  at  every  vibration  of  the  fork.  As  it 
passes  through  the  wire  coil,  it  sets  up  electrical  currents 
in  the  other  wire  coil  near  it.  When  a  telephone  is  con- 
nected to  this  second  coil,  a  tone  can  be  heard  by  plac- 
ing the  telephone  to  the  ear.  This  tone  can  be  weakened 
by  moving  the  second  coil  away  from  the  first  one. 

The  person  to  be  tested  puts  the  telephone  to  his  ear. 
The  second  coil  is  placed  far  from  the  first  ;  no  sound  is 
heard.      It  is  gradually  moved  nearer    till    the  tone  is 


Heari7ig.  147 

heard.  Then  it  is  placed  close  to  the  first  coil, 
a  loud  tone  being  heard,  and  is  gradually  moved  away 
till  the  tone  is  lost.  The  average  of  the  two  results 
gives  a  figure  for  the  deafness  of  the  person. 

For  rousrh  tests  a  watch  is  often  used.      The  watch  is   Crude 
steadily  brought  nearer  to  one  ear   (the  opposite  one 
beinsf  closed^   till  the  tone  is  heard.     The  distance  of 


experiments. 


Fig,  So,    Everj'body  is  Somewhat  Deaf,     Finding 
the  Threshold  of  Intensity. 

the  watch  from  the  ear  indicates  the  threshold  for  sound, 
or  the  degree  of  deafness.  This  method  is  very  unre- 
liable, the  chief  difhculty  being  the  disturbance  by  out- 
side noises. 

Probably  no  better  illustration  of  this  method  of  find-   illustration. 
ing  the  threshold  could  be  found  than  distant  footsteps 
heard  in  a  still  night.      All  is  silence.      The  assassin  in 
his  hiding-place  feels  secure  from  pursuit.     Suddenly  he 
notices  a  faint  sound  :  is  it  pursuit  or  imagination  ?     It 


148 


Thinking,   Feelhig,   Doiyig. 


The  blessing  of 
deafness. 


Notation  for 
pitch  and 
duration. 


becomes  louder  and  distinct  enough  to  be  clearly,  though 
faintly  heard  ;  avenging  justice  is  at  hand.  The  in- 
tensity of  the  sound  at  the  first  hearing  represents  the 
threshold.  The  pursuers  come  nearer  and  nearer,  but 
never  think  of  searching  the  bushes  by  the  wayside.  Their 
footsteps  die  away  in  the  distance  ;  the  last  faint  sound 
disappears  at  the  threshold.     Silence  ;  escape  at  last. 

We  are,  fortunately,  all  deaf  Every  moving  or 
vibrating  object  in  this  world  would  produce  a  sound  to 
an  ear  sensitive  enough  to  hear  it.  What  should  we  do 
if  our  ears  were  so  sensitive  that  the  footsteps  of  every 
person  between  New  York  and  California  could  be  heard 
by  a  person  in  Chicago  ? 

We  are,  unfortunately,  not  deaf  enough  to  meet  the 
demands  of  modern  civilization.  The  incessant  battery 
of  noise  and  racket  from  rumbling  wagons,  factory 
whistles,  car  gongs,  college  clocks,  clanging  bells,  house 
pianos,  crowing  roosters,  whistling  boys,  and  other 
diabolical  inventions  have  been  potent  factors  in  produc- 
ing what  is  known  abroad  as  the  American  disease, 
neurasthenia,  or  nervous  break-down.  Until  asphalt 
pavements,  rubber  tires,  and  laws  against  noise  are  in- 
troduced on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  there  is  no  remedy 
but  artificial  deafness  by  stopping  up  the  ears. 

A  special  notation  has  been  invented  to  indicate  tones. 
The  first  complete  notation  for  pitch  is  attributed  to  Guido 
Aretino  in  the  eleventh  century.  Three  centuries  later 
the  notation  for  duration  was  introduced  by  Jan  de 
Meurs.  Nattirally  the  presence  of  exact  means  of  ex- 
pression for  these  two  quantities  afforded  opportunity  for 
progress  in  the  artistic  execution  on  the  one  hand 
and  for  scientific  research  on  the  other.  The  subject  of 
pitch  has  reached  a  high  degree  of  development.      The 


Hearing.  1 49 

duration  of  tones  is  also  a  matter  of  technique  that  has 
been  carried  to  a  great  degree  of  precision  in  practice, 
ahhough  it  has  been  scarcely  investigated  scientifically. 

We  are  all  familiar  with  the  staff  notation  for  pitch   The  staff 

notation. 

and  duration.      For  example, 


^ 


indicates  a  certain  tone  of  a  definite  character  lasting 
through  a  definite  time  ;  it  is  the  tone  A  with  the  length 
of  one  fourth  of  a  whole  note.  By  international  agree- 
ment this  tone  has  been  fixed  definitely  so  that  it  is 
the  same  in  pitch  throughout  Europe  and  America; 
by  a  remark  at  the  beginning  of  a  piece  of  music  the 
exact  fraction  of  a  minute  occupied  by  a  quarter-note  is 
readily  given. 

Imagine  the  condition  of  music  when  the  composer  composer  and 
indicated  the  pitch  but  left  the  duration  and  time  to  the  performer. 
likings  of  the  performer  !  Imagine  the  condition  when 
the  composer  could  indicate  the  pitch  and  the  length  of 
the  tones  but  could  not  indicate  their  loudness  or  their 
form  !  I  said  ' '  imagine ' '  for  the  latter  case  ;  I  meant  to 
say  "notice" — for  that  is  the  condition  to-day. 

The  intensity  of  tones  has  been  neglected  ;  it  must  be  ^^^^^^^^  ^^ 
remembered  that  we  are  not  speaking  of  the  semi-con-   intensity. 
scious  use  of  the  different  degrees  of  intensity  in  the 
execution  of  a  piece  of  music,  but  to  a  deliberate  use  of 
the  shades  of  intensity.      In  music  the  consideration  is 
confined  to  the  five  vague  expressions,  ff,  f,  m,  p,  pp. 
When  a  group  of  tones  is  to  be  made  rather  loud,  put 
an  /  over  it.      How  loud  ?  just  as  the  performer  feels. 
All  of  the  same  loudness  ?  just  as  the  performer  is  in- 


I50 


TJmiking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


dined.      Are  all  the  tones  without  these  letters  to  be  of 
the  same  strength  ?  just  as  the  performer  is  disposed. 
Helplessness  of  These  five  vague  grades  cover  only  a  few  tones  out  of 

both  composer         ,  ,  ,       .  .  _  .  ,—,, 

and  performer,  the  thousands  m  a  piece  oi  music.  ine  composer  is 
powerless  to  give  any  indication  of  the  wonderfully  del- 
icate shadings  in  the  intensity  of  the  different  members 
of  a  group  of  tones  ;  the  performer  is  left  without  help. 
Two  good  performers  on  the  organ  will  execute  the  same 
music  with  utterly  different  effects  because  they  do  as 
they  please  with  the  intensities  of  the  tones.  Which 
effect  did  the  composer  intend  ?     Nobody  knows. 

It  is  to  overcome  this  difficulty  that  I  propose  a  sys- 
tem of  notes  to  include  shades  of  intensity.  Suppose, 
for  the  present,  that  we  agree  upon  nine  grades  of  in- 


Notation  for 
intensity. 


^fe%l 


D 


Fig.  8i. 


Method  of  Indicating  Intensity  in  Notes  ;  Loudest  bv  Black, 
Weakest  bv  White. 


Form  of  the 
tone. 


tensity  between  the  weakest  and  the  strongest  the  instru- 
ment is  successfully  capable  of  Then  we  can  introduce 
a  system  of  shading  to  indicate  grades  of  intensity  just 
as  the  heraldist  uses  shading  to  indicate  colors.  Such  a 
system  is  shown  in  Fig.  8i. 

This  would  cover  the  case  in  instruments  like  the 
piano,  where  there  is  no  control  over  the  form  of  the 
note.  Most  instruments,  however,  can  produce  tones  of 
different  forms.  For  example,  suppose  we  are  producing 
the  tone 


on  the  violin.  We  can  make  it  steady  in  intensity  from 
beginning  to  end  ;  we  can  begin  softly  and  go  louder, 
or  the  reverse ;  or  we  could  rise  and  sink  in  succession. 


f 
r 


Hearing.  151 

To  indicate  these  differences  we  might  use  note-heads 
of  the  forms  D  O  O  o  ,  where  the  first  means  a  steady 
tone,  the  second  means  an  increase  from  soft  to  loud,  the 
third  a  decrease  from  loud  to  soft,  and  the  fourth  a  rise 
and  a  lall  in  succession,  or  a  crescendo. 

The  head  of  the  note  ought  not  to  be  used  to  indicate 
duration.  In  the  present  system  duration  is  shown  by 
the  hooks  on  the  stems  of  the  notes,  except  in  the  case  Notation  for 
of  the  whole  and  half-notes,  where  a  differ- 
ence is  made  in  the  head  oi  the  note.  This 
change  in  the  head  of  the  note  is  unnecessary 
for  the  indication  of  duration  and  can  be  em- 
ployed to  indicate  intensity.  A  very  slight 
change  is  thus  necessary  in  the  present  no- 
tation ;  we  can  retain  the  usual  method  of  0 
indicating  pitch  and  the  usual  signs  for  ^ 
duration  with  the  exception  of  the  two  for  /• 
the  whole  note  and  the  half-note.  These  can  y 
be  indicated  by  two  lines  across  the  stem  of 
the  ordinary  quarter-note  for  the  whole  note 
and  one  for  the  half-note.  Consequently  Fig.  S2.  Series 
the  series  of  notes  as  regards  duration  will  ?ordhi|^  ^o 
be  that  shown  in  Fig.  %2,  representing  the  ^'^^^^^°"- 
whole,  half,  quarter,  eighth,  sixteenth,  and  thirty- 
second  notes  respectively. 

Whenever  it  is  desired  to  write  music  without  regard 
to  intensity,  it  can  be  done  in  the  same  way  as  at  pres- 
ent with  the  substitution  of  the  two  new  signs  for  the  No  confusion 
whole  and  half-note,  or  it  can  be  done  as  usual  without  way. 
any  danger  of  there  being  a  mistake  in  the  playing  of 
it.  Moreover,  the  comprehension  and  the  execution  of 
pieces  in  the  usual  style  will  not  be  in  the  least  inter- 
fered with. 


152 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


Suppose  we  wish  to  indicate  a  half-note  of  medium  in- 

bpecimen       _  ^ 

pS  ^  durat\S^  tensity  and  even  duration  ;  we  have   iT.      Or  an  eighth - 

intensitv.  and  ,  ,  r  ^  ' 

note    of  loud   intensity    and   staccato    form,    j  . 


Specimen 


intensity,  and 
form 


Or 


Location  of 
sounds. 


Judgment  with 
both  ears. 


whole  note,  weak  but  of  crescendo  form, 


I 


Where  are  the  tones  we  hear  ?  With  one  ear  closed 
the  sounds  we  hear  have  no  definite  position.  We  know 
that  a  certain  rattling  must  be  down  on  the  street  be- 
cause wagons  cannot  be  up  in  the  air  ;  the  song  of  a  bird 
cannot  be  under  our  feet.  But  a  plain  tone  is  nowhere, 
or  rather,  anywhere.  Take  a  seat  in  this  high-backed 
chair  ;  let  some  one  hold  your  head  firmly  so  that  you 
cannot  turn  it.  Put  your  finger  tightly  in  one  ear  and 
close  your  eyes.  Now  I  make  clicks  with  a  snapper 
sounder  or  I  strike  a  glass  with  a  spoon.  Point  to  where 
the  sound  is.  If  I  vary  the  intensity  of  the  sound  so 
that  you  cannot  reason  the  matter  out,  your  answers  are 
generally  wrong. 

By  turning  the  head  you  can  get  an  idea  of  the  place 
because  you  know  that  sounds  straight  out  sidewise  are 
stronger  than  in  any  other  direction. 

Open  both  ears  but  keep  the  eyes  closed.  Now  you 
can  tell  me  just  where  the  sound  is.  You  draw,  uncon- 
sciously, an  inference  from  the  relative  intensity  of  the 
two  sounds  from  the  two  ears.  But  whenever  I  snap  the 
sounder  equally  distant  from  the  two  ears',  you  are  al- 
ways wrong.  Imagine  a  sheet  of  glass  passed  through 
the  body  dividing  it  into  two  halves  symmetrically.  For 
all  sounds  in  this  plane  you  are  utterly  at  a  loss.  I  snap 
my  sounder  under  your  chin  ;  you  declare  that  it  is  be- 
hind your  back.  I  snap  it  at  your  feet ;  you  say  it  is  in 
front  of  your  nose. 


CHAPTER  XIL 

COLOR. 

"  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field  ;  Solomon  in  all  his  Color  is  a  fact 
glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these  ! ' '  And  yet 
flowers  have  no  color,  the  rainbow  has  no  color,  all 
nature  has  no  color,  apart  from  the  mind  of  the  person 
seeing  it.  The  flowers  are  beautifully  colored  to  us  be- 
cause we  see  them.  Those  poor  unfortunates  who  are 
totally  ' '  color-blind  ' '  see  nothing  but  light  and  shade  ; 
those  who  are  red-blind  or  green-blind  see  the  world  in 
mixtures  of  green  and  violet  or  red  and  violet  ;  every 
one  of  us  differs  from  every  one  else  in  his  color-vision 
and  sees  the  world  in  colors  that  differ  for  each  person. 
The  flowers  have  no  colors ;  they  send  off  physical 
vibrations,  called  vibrations  of  ether,  but  colors  exist 
only  where  there  are  the  eye  and  the  mind  to  transform 
these  vibrations. 

With  the  physics  of  light  we  have  nothing  whatever  Nothin<^  to  do 
to  do  except  to  provide  apparatus  for  experiment ;  our  ph^^iS^of  li^^ht. 
problem  is  the  study  of  color  sensations.  In  the  first 
place  we  shall  treat  the  color  sensations  of  the  great 
majority  of  mankind.  Those  of  my  readers  who  are 
color-blind  will,  of  course,  soon  find  it  impossible  to 
understand  what  the  rest  of  us  are  doing  ;  they  must 
wait  -for  special  attention. 

A  larsre  amount  of  experimentinp-  on  the  subject  of 

1  ij  I,  r  11J     The  color-top. 

color  can   be    done    by   means   oi    a    properly  selected 

153 


154 


Thinkmg^   Feeling,   Doing. 


The  color- 
wheel. 


package  of  colored  papers  (such  as  are  used  in  the 
kindergarten)  and  a  color-top  or  a  color- wheel.  The 
color-top  was  the  invention  of  the  great  physicist  Max- 
well ;  it  was  used  by  Helmholtz  for  his  investigations  on 

color.  There  are  numerous 
forms  of  the  color-top  ;  the 
miniature  one  shown  in  Fig, 
83  has  been  prepared  at  my 
suggestion.  The  cost  of  these 
tops  is  so  trifling  that  they 
can  be  given  to  school  children 
by  the  thousand,  like  lead 
pencils  or  blank  books,  while 
at  the  same  time  the  individual  instruction  thus  ob- 
tained by  every  child  makes  the  top  more  efficient  than 
the  color-wheel. 

More  convenient  and  accurate  is  the  color-wheel, 
which  has  developed  from  the  color-top.  The  best 
equipment    of    wheel    and    disks    is    that   used   by   the 


Fig.  83.    The  Color-top. 


Fig.  84.     The  Color-wheel. 


physiologist    Hering.      Fig.    84    shows    how    the    high 
speed  of  the  disk  is  obtained  by  successive  wheels. 
The  disks  for  top  and  wheel  differ  only  in  size.     Each 


Color. 


155 


disk  has  a  hole  exactly  in  the  center  to  go  on  the  axle  ; 
a  slit  runs  straight  from  the  edge  to  the  hole. 

To  put  two  disks  of  the  same  size  together,  they  are  Coior-disks. 
slid  over  each  other  by  means  of  the  slits,  as  shown  in 
Fig.  85.  In  Fig.  86  the  two  disks  are  shown  ready  to 
place  on  the  axle.  The  proportions  of  the  two  colors 
can  be  changed  at  will  by  sliding  one  disk  around  on 
the  other. 

When  the  top  is  spun  or  the  wheel  is  rotated,  the  dif- 

f.  1  ,.  -x  r     r  11  1T1       Method  of  use. 

ferent  colors  combme.      it,    lor  example,    the  red  disk 


Fig.  S5.     Putting  Two  Disks 
Together. 


Fig.  86.     Two  Disks  with  Scale. 


and  the  violet  disk  are  placed  together,  the  whole  space 
will  seem  purple  when  the  top  is  spun  rapidly.  If  the 
disks,  when  still,  show  half  red  and  half  violet,  the  com- 
bined color  will  be  a  rich  purple  ;  if  there  is  more  red 
than  violet,  the  purple  will  be  reddish  ;  and  likewise  the 
reverse. 

The  first  experiment  to  be  made  begins  with  spreading 
the  colored  papers  on  the  table.  It  is  desirable  to  have 
a  gray  table-cloth.  Choose  any  single  color  ;  place  it 
on  a  clear  space.  Then  place  the  paper  next  like  it 
close  beside  it.      Continue  till  all  have  been  used. 


Sorting  colors. 


156 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Necessity  of  a 
svsteni. 


Hue,  shade, 
tint. 


Succession  of 
hues  with  the 
appropriate 
shades  and 
tints. 


A  color  system. 


If  the  package  of  papers  is  complete,  you  will  soon 
get  into  trouble  unless  you  proceed  methodically. 
Adopt  as  a  principle  that  when  two  papers  differ  by  be- 
ing lighter  or  darker  you  will  arrange  them  in  a  straight 
line  with  the  darker  end  toward  you. 

Suppose  you  have  started  with  red  ;  then  you  will  find, 
say,  five  reds  alike  except  for  their  whiteness  or  dark- 
ness. Call  them  red,  light  red,  very  light  red,  dark 
red,  very  dark  red.  The  bright  red  itself  we  will  call  a 
hue  of  red.  The  dark  colors  we  can  call  shades  of  red, 
the  lighter  ones  tints  of  red. 

Very  similar  to  this  red  you  will  find  a  red  that  is 
slightly  like  orange,  with  all  its  shades  and  tints.  This 
we  will  call  orange  red.  Likewise  you  will  find  in 
succession  reddish  orange,  orange,  yellowish  orange, 
orange  yellow,  yellow,  greenish  yellow,  yellowish 
green,  green,  bluish  green,  greenish  blue,  blue,  vio- 
let blue,  bluish  violet,  violet,  purplish  violet,  violet 
purple,  purple,  reddish  purple,  and  purplish  red.  For 
each  of  these  there  are  the  appropriate  shades  and  tints. 

Suppose  you  write  the  main  colors  in  a  horizontal 
line,  as  indicated  in  heavy  type  in  Fig.  87.  Now  write 
all  the  tints  above  in  smaller  letters  and  all  the  shades 
below.  Suppose  that  you  find  two  tints  passing  off 
toward  white  ;  for  example,  for  red  you  have  light  red 
and  very  light  red.  You  indicate  them  by  LR  and 
LLR.  For  the  shades  you  have  dark  red  and  very  dark 
red,  DR  and  DDR.  You  will  put  OR  beside  R,  LOR 
beside  LR,  DOR  beside  DR,  etc.  Continuing  for  all 
the  colors,  you  get  the  complete  plan  in  Fig.  87.  For 
black  we  use  D  instead  of  B  which  would  be  confused  with 
blue  ;  black  is  D-arkness. 

But  with  purplish  red  you  are  only  one  step  from  red. 


Color. 


157 


and  the  only  way  to  bring  it  next  to  red  is  to  cut  the 
scheme  out  and  bend  it  around  into  a  cyUnder. 

But    all    the   lio^ht    colors,    or   tints,    pass    off  toward   its  final  form, 

the  color-cone. 

white,   and  all    the    dark    colors,    or   shades,    converge 


tf       w      w       w      w      w     M       w       wwwvwwwwwwyf     jy 


Fig.  bj.     Diagrammatic  Arrangement  of  the  Colors. 

toward  black  ;  they  ought  to  be  closer  together  than  the 
other  colors.  By  cutting  out  the  figure  along  the  zig- 
zag lines  you  can  bring  all  the  points  together  at  the  top 
and  at  the  bottom.  You  will  then  have  a  double- 
pointed  cone  like  that  in  Fig.  88. 

We  are  only  finite,  limited  human  beings  and  cannot  The  infinity  of 
even  grasp  the  idea  of  the  infinity,  the  unlimited  number 
of  full  colors  in  the  spectrum  series.  Red,  for  example, 
includes  a  large  number  of  different  reds  passing  grad- 
ually toward  orange.  We  have  divided  them  into  red, 
orange  red.  reddish  orange,  and  orange  ;  but  we  might 
just  as  well  have  made  ten.  twenty,  or  any  number  of 
subdivisions. 

The  fact  that  tints  are  whitish  colors  is  known  to  those   Tints  are 

1  •  T  1  1  r  >_i  1  whitish  colors. 

who  use  pamts.      it  can  be  proven  by  use  01  the  color- 


158 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Shades  are 
weaker  colors. 


top.  Place  together  the  red  disk  and  the  white  one 
with  almost  no  white  showing  ;  the  resulting  color  is 
red.  Add  more  white  ;  the  resulting  color  is  a  red  tint. 
Add  more  and  more  white  ;  the  red  passes  through  suc- 
cessively lighter  tints  till  pure  white  is  reached.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  other  hues.      Tints  are  mixtures  of 

colors  with  white. 

The  shades  are 
weaker  colors.  Hold 
red  and  a  shade  of 
red  squarely  to  the 
light.  Keeping  the 
shade  in  full  light, 
gradually  turn  the  red 
away  so  that  it  grows 
darker.  At  a  certain 
degree  of  darkness  it 
will  match  the  shade. 
Place  a  red  and  a 
black  disk  on  the 
color-top  and  grad- 
ually change  their 
proportions.  The  red 
passes  through  all 
shades  into  black. 
Since  black  is  absence 
of  light,  the  red  is 
simply  decreased  in 
intensity. 

With  the  top  you 
can  illustrate  the  fact  that  between  a  bright  red  and 
black,  or  between  a  bright  red  and  white,  there  are 
countless  intermediate  shades  and  tints. 


Fiof.  88.    The  Color-cone. 


Color 


159 


Relation  of 
colors  to  black. 


In  our  scheme  of  colors  we  have  white  and  black,  but 
no  grays.  If  you  take  the  color-cone  in  Fig.  88  and  grad- 
ually cut  off  the  light,  the  whole  collection  of  colors  be- 
comes dimmer  and  dimmer  till  all,  even  the  white,  pass 
into  black.      In  a  dense  night  all  colors  are  black. 

Hold  a  piece  of  white  paper  squarely  to  the  light ;  then 
gradually  turn  it  away.  It  becomes  darker  and  darker, 
grayer  and  grayer.  Gray  is,  therefore,  only  darker 
white. 

Take  the  same  piece  of  paper  into  the  sunlight.  It  is 
much  whiter  than  before.  What  we  thought  was  white 
was  only  a  gray  after  all.  Lay  the  paper  on  new-fallen 
snow.  Alas !  our  whitest  paper  is  a  sorry  gray  when 
compared  with  God's  white. 

The  brightest  and  purest  white  is  the  light  of  the  sun    Absolute  white 
at  noon  on  a  clear  day.     All  other  whites  are  grays.    We 


What  is  gray  ? 


What  is  white  ? 


White. 


Lieht  Gray. 


Medium  Gray. 


Dark  Gray. 


Black. 


Fig.  S9.     The  Grays. 


can  therefore  stretch  a  line  from  the  whitest  white  to  the 
blackest  black  and  hang  all  the  grays  in  between.  Since 
the  set  is  continuous  and  unbroken  we  will  call  it  the  set 
of  grays,  having  white  as  the  whitest  gray  and  black  as 
the  blackest  gray. 

If  we  put  a  black  and  a  white  disk  together  on  the 
color-top,  we  can  imitate  most  of  the  grays  by  changing 
the  proportions  of  the  two.  Of  course,  we  cannot  come 
an^-Avhere  near  true  white  or  true  blackness. 

What  is  known  as  the  ' '  absolute ' '  white  is  the  light   standard  white. 
of  the  sun  at  midday   in   a    perfectly   clear   sky.     The 
' '  standard ' '  white  for  practical  use  is  the  color  of  mag- 
nesium oxide  held  in  such  sunlig-ht ;  it  is  whiter  than  snow. 


i6o 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Colored  grays. 


The  brightest 
colors  in  nature. 


To  produce  the  standard  white  take  a  piece  of  glass  or 

mica  and  hold  it  over  burning  magnesium  tape.     Your 

friend  the    photographer    is    familiar   with  this  process. 

His  flash-light  is  almost  as  good  as  the  magnesium  tape. 

It  is  a  good  thing  to  keep  such  a  standard  of  white  ; 

by  comparison  you  will  find  that  many  white  objects  are 

tinged  with  red,  yellow,  blue,  etc. 

The  line  of  grays  passes  through  the  middle  of  the 

color-cone  from  W  to  D. 

If  we  mix  the  colors  with  gray  we  get  colored  grays. 

This  is  readily  done  by  using 
three  disks  on  the  color-top, 
a  color,  black,  and  white.  Thus, 
red  mixed  with  different  pro- 
portions of  black  and  white 
gives  reddish  grays,  or,  as*  our 
bric-a-brac  friends  would  say, 
shades  of  terra-cotta.  By  using 
orange,  we  get  the  orange  grays, 
or  browns. 

The  brightest  hues  to  be 
found  in  nature  are  produced 
by  allowing  a  ray  of  sunlight 
to  fall  on  a  spectrum-grating. 
This  grating  consists  of  a  num- 
ber of  fine  lines,  40,000  or  more 
to  the  inch,  carefully  ruled  on 
glass  or  metal.      When  a  ray 

Fig.  90.  Spectrum  from  a  Grating,  ^f  g^nlight  falls  OU  this  grat- 
ing, it  is  spread  out  as  a  band  of  color.  By  looking 
at  the  grating  directly,  the  colors  are  seen  without  any 
contamination  by  reflection  from  objects.  The  band  be- 
gins with  violet  and  passes  through  all  the  colors  of  the 


Color.  i6i 

rainbow  to  red.  After  the  red  comes  the  violet  again, 
followed  by  the  whole  succession  up  to  blue.  After  the 
orange  comes  purple,  followed  by  blue,  and  so  on.  The 
band  of  color  really  consists  of  a  series  of  rainbows  ;  the 
second  and  third  overlap  so  that  violet  and  red  make 
purple  ;  the  third  and  fourth  overlap  still  more,  and  so  on. 

The  standards  of  color  are  found  in  the  series  from 
red  to  violet  and  in  the  purple.  The  standard  colors  standards  of 
from  red  to  violet  are  also  produced  when  a  prism  of 
glass  is  placed  in  a  ray  of  sunlight.  The  colors  from  red 
to  violet  are  called  the  spectrum  colors.  For  the  sake 
of  convenience  we  sometimes  add  purple. 

Nature  uses  the  raindrops  like  prisms  to  form  the  rain-    Nature's 
bow.     We  may  call  the  spectrum  colors  rainbow  colors,    ^p^'^^™'"- 
but  must  remember  that  the  great  amount  of  white  light 
in  the  sky  mixes  some  white  with  them. 

A  moderately  fair  idea  of  some  of  the  rainbow  colors   Artificial  colors. 
can  be  gotten  from  colored  objects. 

There  is  no  pure  red  pigment  in  common  use.  The  Red. 
common  idea  of  red  is  an  orange  red  like  vermilion.  A 
very  fair  red  may  be  obtained  by  mixing  the  pigments 
crimson-lake  and  vermilion.  The  deep  ruby  of  the  photog- 
rapher' s  lantern  is  a  very  pure  red.  The  red  browns 
represent  the  shades  of  red.  The  common  poppy  is  a 
beautiful  red. 

Orange-peel  is  a  very  fair  representative  of  orange.  Orange. 
Red  lead  is  orange  with  a  slight  mixture  of  red.  Saffron 
is  also  a  very  fair  orange.  The  shades  of  orange  form 
the  orange  browns.  The  glow  of  a  coal  fire  exhibits 
very  fairly  all  the  tints  and  shades  of  orange.  The  nas- 
turtium is  a  characteristic  orange. 

An  excellent  example  of  yellow  is  found  in  pale  chrome,    yellow. 
Sulphur  is  a  whitish  yellow.     Tan  is  a  case  of  the  yel- 


l62 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doi7ig. 


Green. 


Blue. 


Violet. 


The  flower 
spectrum. 


low  browns.     The  dandelion  furnishes  a  good  yellow  ; 
the  buttercup  is  a  whitish  yellow. 

Green  is  represented  by  the  emerald  green  among 
paints.  The  greens  of  plants  hardly  approach  the  pure 
green.  Apple  leaves  are  nearly  of  the  same  hue,  but  they 
are  much  darker.  Some  of  the  greens  in  the  plumage  of 
tropical  birds,  especially  of  the  parakeets,  are  a  near  ap- 
proach to  the  standard  green. 

Blue  is  represented  by  cyan-blue  (Berlin  blue)  and 
ultramarine.  A  peacock' s  neck  toward  sunset  is  a  very 
pure  blue.     As  its  flower  we  may  choose  the  centaurea. 

One  of  the  best  examples  of  a  pure  violet  is  the  color 
of  the  flower  of  some  varieties  of  lobelia.  The  best  time 
to  see  a  pure  violet  is  toward  sunset.  At  this  time  the 
light  from  the  sun  is  mostly  violet,  the  red  and  other 
rays  being  weak. 

In  the  spectrum  thrown  by  the  sunlight  we  find  a 
great  number  of  fine  lines.  The  most  prominent  lines 
have  received  letter-names  ;  thus,  the  two  heavy  lines 
close  together  in  the  yellow  are  called  the  D-lines. 
These  lines  are  useful  in  defining  the  limits  of  groups  of 
colors.  Orange  passes  continuously  through  interme- 
diate hues  of  orange  and  yellow  into  yellow  ;  where 
shall  we  draw  the  line  between  orange  and  yellow? 
Helmholtz  proposes  the  following  system  :  red,  all  colors 
from  the  end  to  line  C  ;  orange,  C  to  D  ;  yellow,  first 
quarter  of  the  distance  D  to  E  ;  greenish  yellow,  from 
yellow  to  E  ;  green,  E  to  b  ;  bluish  green,  b  to  F  ;  blue, 
F  to  G  ;  violet,  G  to  end. 

Some  of  my  fair  readers  may  like  to  have  a  spectrum 
in  the  garden  or  on  the  flower-stand.  For  their  special 
benefit  I  give  a  list  of  flowers  for  colors  not  too  widely 
distant  from  the  spectrum  series. 


Color. 


i6- 


THE  FLOWER  SPECTRUM. 

Red. 

Orange. 

Yellow. 

Green. 

Poppy, 

Nasturtium, 

Dandelion, 

Jack-in-the-Pulpit, 

Cardinal  Flower, 

Chrvsanthem 

um,      Lemon  Lilv, 

Star  of  Bethlehem, 

Tulip, 

Tulip, 

Tulip, 

Cvpripedium, 

Celosia, 

Azalea, 

Primrose, 

Cobia, 

Geranium, 

Marigold, 

Marigold, 

[Hydrangea], 
[Mignonette]. 

Salvia. 

Escholtzia. 

Nasturtium. 

Blue. 

Violet. 

Purple. 

Larkspur, 

Heliotrope, 

Sweet  Pea, 

Cornflower 

Pansy, 

Aster, 

Forget -Me 

-'Xot, 

Hyacinth, 

Pansv, 

Lobelia, 

Crocus, 

Phlok. 

Flax, 

Verbena, 

Centaurea. 

Stocks. 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  no  interference  with  the  rational   Monstrosities 

^  _  in  color-names. 

system  of  naming  colors  will  be  allowed.  In  order  to 
sell  new  wares  the  manufacturers  are  accustomed  to  in- 
vent new  names  for  the  colors,  changing  several  of  them 
everv  year.  Some  of  the  monstrosities  thus  perpetrated 
are  "cadet  blue,"  " crushed  strawberry, "  "baby  blue," 
"zulu,"  "ashes  of  roses,"  "elephant's  breath," 
"calves'  liver,"  "cerise,"  "gluten,"  "toreador," 
"eiffel,"  etc.  I  leave  it  to  my  readers  to  guess  what 
the  names  mean. 

There  is  probably  no  more  fascinating  department  of  Combination  of 
mental  science  than  the  study  of  the  combination  of 
colors.  Newton  was  one  of  the  first  to  show  that  the 
colors  we  see  and  their  combinations  have  no  counterpart 
in  the  physical  world.  As  Maxwell  states  it,  the  science 
of  color  is  a  mental  science.  The  little  color-top  puts  into 
the  hands  of  every  one  the  power  to  make  experiments 
on  the  most  important  laws  of  color  combination. 

The  first  experiment  is  that  of  matching  colors. 
Spread  a  piece  of  colored  cambric  on  the  table.  Put  a 
couple  of  the  colored  disks  on  your  top  and  spin  it  on 
the  cambric.  Change  the  proportions  till  the  top 
matches  the  cambric. 

Now,   note  the  number  of  hundredths  of  each  color 


Matching 
colors. 


,164 


Thinkings   Feeli7ig,   Doing. 


A  color 
equation. 


Practical 
applications. 


Fundamental 
color  equations. 


shown  on  the  top.  Let  x  denote  the  color  of  the  cam- 
bric and  R,  O,  D,  and  W  the  colors  of  the  disk  you  have 
used,  D  denoting  black.  Suppose  you  have  30  R,  45  O, 
5  D,  20  W;  then,  since  the  cloth  covers  a  whole  circle, 
100^  r=  30  R  4-  45  O  +  5  D  +  20  W. 

How  convenient  for  the  forgetful  business  man  ! 
Madam  wants  a  certain  kind  of  brown  trimming  just  like 
her  piano-cover.  She  could  pick  out  the  right  one  by 
going  to  the  store  herself;  she  knows  her  husband  will 
be  sure  to  select  wrongly,  yet  she  cannot  send  a  sample. 
So  she  spins  the  little  top  on  the  goods  and  adjusts  the 
disks  till  she  gets  the  proper  brown.  Now  the  man  can 
put  the  top  in  his  pocket  and  spin  it  on  the  store-counter 
till  the  salesgirl  hands  down  the  right  color. 

Or  suppose  a  house-painter  must  order  a  new  supply 
of  color  immediately.  He  matches  it  by  his  color-top 
and  telegraphs  the  result.  The  dealer  can  at  once  ad- 
just his  own  top  and  see  the  color  wanted. 

The  necessity  of  such  a  method  can  be  seen  from  the 
fact  that  the  paints  sold  under  the  same  name  often  differ 
widely.  An  English  factory  will  produce  a  color  that 
corresponds  to  29  O  +  71  Y  while  a  German  factory 
will  make  it  35  O  +  45  Y  +  20  D  ;  and  yet  both  colors 
will  be  called  chrome  yellow. 

A  color  equation  can  be  found  for  any  color  in  terms 
of  red,  green,  violet,  white,  and  black.  Pick  up  any 
piece  of  colored  paper  you  find  and  cut  a  circle  from  it 
equal  to  the  smaller  disks  of  your  top  ;  cut  out  the 
center  and  slit  it  like  the  others.  For  the  sake  of  brevity 
we  will  speak  of  this  disk  as  x;  all  other  small  disks 
will  be  indicated  by  the  small  letters  r,  g,  v,  w,  d,  and 
the  large  ones  by  the  capitals  R,  G,  V,  W,  D.  Put 
together  the  disk  x  and  the  black  and  white  disks  d  and 


Color.  165 

w.  Likewise  put  together  the  large  D,  W,  R,  G,  and 
V.  Place  the  larger  set  on  the  top  and  then  the 
smaller  set  over  them.  By  repeatedly  changing  the 
proportions  of  the  two  sets  of  disks  you  can  finally  get 
them  to  match  almost  exactly.  By  help  of  the  gradu- 
ated circle  on  the  top  you  can  estimate  the  proportions 
of  each  color.  For  example,  suppose  a  whole  circle  to 
be  counted  as  100  and  the  various  colors  to  be  in  the 
proportion  17  R4-45G-f-  10  V+  28  W=  ^\x 
-f-  46  d.  Therefore,  54  .r  =  17  R  +  45  G  +  10  V 
+  28  W  -  46  ^  or  ^  =  H  R  +  M  G  +  if  V  +  M  W  - 
f  f  d,  which  gives  a  definite  color  equation  for  the  color 
of  the  paper. 

The  facts  learned  from  the   colored   papers  and  the  Deductions 
color-top  will  enable  us  to  understand  the  laws  of  com-   p^rhn^rftlon 
bination  of  colors.      In  considering  this  subject  we  have   combination. 
nothing  to   do   with  the  physics   of  light  or  with  the 
physiology   of  the  eye,    we  must  confine   ourselves   to 
mental  facts  just  as  we  find  them. 

In  the  first  place,  between  the  two  extremes,  white 
and  black,  we  have  an  unbroken  line  of  neutral  grays. 
Then  we  have  a  continuous  line  of  colors  according  to 
hue,  passing  from,  say,  green  through  the  blues,  violets, 
purples,  reds,  oranges,  yellows,  back  to  green.  Then 
by  decreasing  the  intensity  of  these  hues  we  can  make 
each  pass  continuously  into  black,  and  by  mixing  each 
with  any  desired  degree  of  gray  or  white  we  can  make 
it  pass  continuously  into  gray  or  white.  All  of  these 
can  be  produced  by  combinations  of  a  few  colors. 

This  infinite  number  of  colors  of  which  we  are  capa-   The  infinity  of 
ble  can  be  produced  from  three  fundamental  colors,  red,    produced  by 

-        .    .  ,_,         r        1  11'  11         combinations  of 

green,   and  violet.      I  he  lundamental  red  is  nearly  the   three  funda- 
-same  as  a  red  that  can  be  found  in  nature  ;  the  funda- 


mental colors. 


1 66 


Thinking,   Feeli7ig,   Dohig. 


The  color- 
triangle. 


Properties  of 
the  spectral 
curve. 


Green 


-Aa 


Red 


mental  green  is  a  purer  green  than  nature  can  exhibit ; 
the  fundamental  violet  is  a  natural  color.  If  a  beam  of 
sunlight  is  reflected  from  a  grating,  it  is  broken 
up    into   a  band  of  color  like  the  rainbow.      At    one 

end  is  a  pure  red 
region,  at  the  other 
is  a  pure  violet  re- 
gion ;  these  are  two 
fundamental  colors. 
The  green  of  the 
spectrum  is  whitish. 
Since  all  nature  re- 
ceives its  light  from 
T^^v/o/c^  the  sun,  the  colors 
V      of  nature  are  limited 

Fig.  91,    The  Color-triangle.  111  -         r 

by  the  character  oi 
sunlight.  With  the  sun  we  have  at  present  and  are 
likely  to  have  for  the  future,  nature  with  all  her  colors 
does  not  give  us  all  the  greens  we  are  capable  of  ex- 
periencing. 

If  we  suppose  our  three  fundamental  colors  placed  at 
three  corners  of  an  equal-sided  triangle  with  white  in 
the  center,  the  colors  of  nature  would  be  enclosed  within 
the  curve  drawn  within  it. 

This  curve  has  several  remarkable  properties.  If  we 
take  any  two  colors,  all  the  colors  that  can  be  produced 
by  them  will  lie  along  the  line  connecting  them.  If  we 
take  spectral  violet  and  spectral  red,  all  the  purples  will 
lie  along  the  line  BG,  the  position  being  determined  by 
the  proportion  of  the  two  colors.  If  we  take  spectral 
yellow  and  spectral  blue,  the  colors  produced  by  mixing 
in  various  proportions  will  lie  along  the  line  DF,  passing 
almost  through  white.      If  we  wish  to  find  what  colors 


Color. 


167 


will  produce  white,  we  draw  a  straight  line  through  white 
in  every  direction.  Pairs  of  colors  that  produce  white  Complementary 
are  called  complementary  colors.  For  three-color  per- 
sons some  of  the  simpler  combinations  are  given  in  the 
table  annexed.  The  table  is  taken  from  Helmholtz. 
It  holds  good  only  approximately,  because  the  color- 
names  are  very  indefinite  ;  thus,  blue  includes  a  group 
of  blues  which  when  combined  with  various  members  of 
the  orange  group  give  results  varying  more  or  less  from 
white. 

TABLE  OF  COLORS  RESULTING  FROM  COMBINATIONS. 


Violet. 

.    Blue. 

Blue  Green. 

Red. 

Purple. 

Light  pink. 

Wliite. 

Orange. 

Dark  pink. 

White. 

Light  yellow, 

Yellow. 

Light  pink. 

Light  green. 

Light  green. 

Yellow  greeii. 

White. 

Light  green. 

Green. 

Green. 

Light  blue. 

Blue  green. 

Blue  green. 

Water  blue. 

Blue. 

Indigo. 

Green. 

Yellow  Green. 

Yellow. 

Red. 

Light  yellow. 

Golden  yellow. 

Orange. 

Orange. 

Yellow. 

Yellow. 

Yellow. 

Yellow  green. 

Yellow  green. 

Green. 

Blue  green. 

Blue. 

The  combination  of  pigments,  e.  g.,  paints,  often 
gives  a  yery  different  result  from  the  combination  of  the 
colors  directly.  In  fact,  if  the  dyes  with  which  two 
paper  disks  have  been  colored  be  mixed,  a  paper  colored 
by  the  mixture  will  never  be  of  the  same  color  as  the 
resultant  from  a  direct  mixture  of  the  colors  of  the  two 
disks  by  means  of  the  color-top. 

This  can  be  prettily  illustrated  by  a  disk  prepared  as 
in  Fig.  92.  The  shaded  portions  are  to  be  painted  with 
blue,  the  light  portions  with  yellow,  and  the  central  por- 
tion with  a  green  formed  by  a  mixture  of  half  blue  and 
half  yellow.     When  the  disk  is  rotated,   the  blue  and 


Combination  of 
pigments. 


i68 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doi?ig. 


Reason  for  the 
odd  results  in 
mixing  pig- 
ments. 


In  colored 
glass. 


In  paints. 


Fig.  92.    Mixing  Yellow 
and  Blue. 


yellow  directly  mixed  never  produce  green  but  a  gray- 
ish color  with  a  blue  or  yellow  cast. 

When  increasing  quantities  of  yellow  paint  are  mixed 
with  blue  paint,  the  color  passes 
through  various  shades  of  bluish 
green,  green,  and  yellowish  green. 
When  yellow  and  blue  colors  are 
mixed,  the  resulting  color  passes 
through  grayish  blue,  gray,  and  gray- 
ish yellow.  With  some  blues  the 
gray  has  a  very  slight  greenish  tinge. 
The  reason  why  blue  and  yellow 
pigments  give  green  can  be  illustrated  by  using  blue  and 
yellow  glass.  When  two  such  pieces  of  glass  are  placed 
together,  all  light  passing  through  both  of  them  is  green. 
Blue  glass  is  blue  because  the  glass  absorbs  the  red,  or- 
ange, and  yellow  light  and  allows  the  blue  and  violet  light 
to  pass.  Yellow  glass  absorbs  the  blue  and  violet  and 
allows  the  red,  orange,  and  yellow  to  pass.  Each  of  them 
allows  a  portion  of  the  green  to  pass.  When  both  of 
them  are  together,  the  blue  keeps  out  the  red,  orange, 
and  yellow,  while  the  yellow  keeps  out  the  blue  and 
violet.      Consequently  only  the  green  gets  through. 

Blue  paints  are  blue  because  the  minute  particles  of 
which  they  are  composed  send  back  to  the  eye  mainly 
colors  from  the  blue  end  of  the  rainbow  series.  Yellow 
paints  send  back  mainly  those  from  the  red  end.  Both 
send  back  some  green.  When  they  are  mixed,  the  blue 
paint  absorbs  all  the  red  end  and  the  yellow  absorbs  all 
the  blue  end,  leaving  only  green  to  be  sent  back. 

Similar  results  are  obtained  from  the  other  paints; 
their  mixtures  are  matters  depending  on  their  particular 
composition   and  not  on   their  colors.     Violet,  for  ex- 


Col07-.  169 

ample,  is  one  of  the  rainbow  colors  and  cannot  be  pro- 
duced by  mixture  of  other  colors.  Yet  red  paint  and 
blue  paint  can  be  made  to  produce  a  violet  paint. 

These  accidents  of  the  action  of  paints  formerly  led  "  Colors, 
people  to  suppose  that  colors  followed  the  same  laws. 
Thus  red,  yellow,  and  blue  were  formerly  called  the  fun- 
damental colors.  The  artist  often  speaks  of  his  paints 
as  his  "  colors,"  and  his  laws  of  combination  of  the  fun- 
damental "  colors  "  are  quite  correct,  if  by  "  colors  "  we 
understand  paints.  To  avoid  confusion  with  the  other 
use  of  the  word  color,  it  is  preferable  not  to  use  it  to 
mean  paint  or  pigment.  Red,  yellow,  and  blue  are  the 
fundamental  pigments,  and  red,  green,  and  violet  are 
the  fundamental  colors. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


COLOR   SENSITIVENESS. 


Least  notice- 
able diflference 
in  color. 


According  to 
age. 


We  are  frequently  called  upon  to  distinguish  small 
differences  in  color  ;  how  accurately  can  we  do  it  ? 

The  color-top  furnishes  one  method  of  answering  the 
question.  Suppose  we  take  as  a  definite  question  :  How 
accurately  can  we  judge  the  mixture  of  small  portions  of 
blue  with  a  large  mass  of  red  ?  The  little  red  disk  is  placed 
in  the  center  of  the  top  ;  it  remains  unchanged  during 
the  experiment.  The  large  red  and  blue  disks  are  placed 
together  so  that  a  minute  portion  of  the  blue  appears. 
The  top  is  spun  ;  no  difference  is  detected.  A  little 
more  blue  is  added  and  the  top  is  again  spun.  This  is 
repeated  till  the  difference  is  noticed.  The  amount  of 
blue  can  be  measured  by  the  graduated  disk.  Suppose 
it  covers  one  half  a  space,  that  is,  tVo  of  the  whole  circle. 
The  red  must  cover  tVo,  or  nine  times  as  much  as  the 
blue.  Therefore  we  can  add  one  part  of  blue  to  nine  of 
red  before  the  difference  is  detected. 

The  result  depends  upon  the  sensitiveness  of  the  per- 
son. A  dyer  will  detect  minute  differences  that  escape 
ordinary  individuals  ;  persons  who  have  paid  little  atten- 
tion to  art  are  often  incapable  of  detecting  large  differ- 
ences. 

It  has  been  proven  that  the  sensitiveness  to  color  dif- 
ferences increases  with  the  age  of  school  children.  The 
results  are  given  in  Fig.  93.  The  figures  at  the  bottom 
indicate  the  ages  ;  those  at  the  side  the  relative  amounts 

170 


Color  Sensitive7iess. 


171 


of  difference  that  could  be  just  detected.  The  greater 
the  difterence,  the  less  the  sensitiveness  and  the  higher 
the  curve.  The  steady  descent  of  the  curve  shows  the 
gain.  In  general,  the  girls  were  more  sensitive  than  the 
boys. 

The  sensitiveness  depends  upon  the  streng-th  of  the  Dependence  on 

^  ....  the  intensity. 

light.  In  very  strong  or  very  weak  light  it  is  much  less 
than  in  moderate  light. 

The  color  of  an  object  depends   on  the   color  of  the 


SENSITIVENESS 


COLOR   DIFFERENCES. 


/  / 7 ^ 7? »p T3 Tf 7f 7J ^ 

Fig.  93.    Children  have  Finer  Eyes  for  Color  as  they  Grow  Older. 


neighboring  objects.  If  two  designs  are  executed  in  the 
same  gray,  they  will  appear  different  if  the  grounds  are 
of  different  colors.  If  the  grounds  are  red  and  yellow 
respectively,  one  ornament  will  appear  somewhat  green 
and  light,  the  other  somewhat  blue  and  dark.  The  ef- 
fect is  increased  by  placing  tissue  paper  over  them.  Yet 
both  grays  are  exactly  alike.  The  color  of  the  sur- 
rounding ground  affects  the  gray. 

Bits  of  gray  paper  laid  on  colored  paper  show  the  same 
result.  If  the  colored  paper  be  tipped  so  that  the  small 
piece  slowly  slides  off,  the  colored  tinge  of  the  gray  can 
be  seen  to  slip  off  as  the  paper  goes  over  the  edge. 

This  influence  of  one  color  over  another  is  called  ' '  con- 


The  color  of  an 
object  depends 
on  its  surround- 
ings. 


Contrast. 


172 


Thinkings  Feeling,   Doing. 


Effect  of  con- 
trast. 


Defective  color- 
seeing. 


trast. ' '  The  effect  of  the  influence  of  a  color  is  to  spread 
the  complementary  color  in  its  neighborhood.  We  have 
already  defined  as  complementary  those  colors  that  give 
gray  when  mixed.  White  is  complementary  to  black. 
Place  a  small  piece  of  gray  paper  on  a  piece  of  colored 
paper.  When  a  piece  of  tissue  paper  is  laid  over  the 
whole,  the  gray  paper  appears  distinctly  colored.     The 

tissue  paper  is  used  to  whiten  the 
colors,  the  contrast  eflect  being 
greatest  with  whitish  colors.  Disks 
to  illustrate  contrast  can  be  pre- 
pared as  in  Fig.  95,  where  the 
lined  portion  is  to  be  colored. 
When  such  a  disk  is  spun,  the 
ring  formed  by  the  mixture  of  the 

Fig.  94.   Disk  to  Illustrate    black  and  white  should  be  gray; 

the  Effect  of  Contrast.       -^  -^^  howcvcr,  the  color  Comple- 
mentary to  color  on  the  other  portion. 

Plain  red,  violet,  and  blue  woven  cloths  were  on 
one  occasion  given  to  manufacturers  for  ornamentation 
with  black  patterns.  When  the  goods  were  returned, 
the  complaint  was  made  that  the  patterns  were  not  black  ; 
those  on  the  red  cloth  were  plainly  greenish,  those  on 
the  violet  were  dark  greenish  yellow,  and  those  on  the 
blue  were  copper-colored.  By  covering  the  cloth  in  such 
a  way  as  to  expose  only  the  patterns  without  the  colors, 
they  were  seen  to  be  truly  black.  It  was  an  eflect  of 
contrast. 

When  we  started  the  subject  of  color,  we  agreed  to 
talk  for  the  majority  and  to  attend  to  persons  defective 
in  color-seeing  afterwards.  Some  of  you  may  have  al- 
ready been  puzzled  by  the  apparent  blunders  the  rest  of 
us  have  been  making.     Let  us  see  how  we  agree. 


Color  Se?isitweness. 


173 


Fig.  95.     Getting  the  Gray 
Equation. 


Suppose 


To  measure  the  color-sense  in  different  persons  the 
two  smaller  disks,  w  and  d, 
should  be  placed  over  the 
larger  disks,  R,  G,  and  V.  The 
white  and  black  make  a  gray, 
and  the  larger  disks  should  be 
adjusted  to  make  a  gray  also. 
A  finer  adjustment  is  obtained 
by  making  both  grays  alike. 

The  relative   proportions  of 
w  and  d  may  be  disregarded 
and  gray  in  general  may  be  indicated  by  m. 
one  person  gets 

m  [=  60  ze/+40  <^]  ^35  R+30  G+35  V 
and  another 

m=:  ^  R+45  G+50  V. 

It  is  evident  that  the  second  one  is  much  less  sensitive 

to  red  ;  in  fact,  such  a  person  would  be  called  red-blind. 
Roughly   speaking,    humanity   falls    into    four    great 

classes:  (i)  the  three-color;  (2)  the  two-color  red-blind; 

(3)  the  two-color  green-blind  ;  (4)  the  one-color  persons. 
The  three-color  persons  form   about  ninety-five  per 

cent  of  the  males  and  almost  all  the  females.     They  are 

so-called  because 
the  colors  they  see 
can  be  produced  by 
combinations  of 
three  fundamental 
colors,  red,  green, 
and  violet. 

The   two-color 

persons  form  about   five  per  cent  of  the    males.     The 

colors   they  see  can    be  formed  from  two    fundamental 


Detection  of 

defective 

persons. 


Fig.  96.  Three-color  Persons,  Proportions  of  tlie 
Fundamental  Colors  in  the  Spectrum  Colors. 


Color- 
blindness. 


Three-color 
persons. 


Two-color 
persons. 


174 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Red-blind 
persons. 


Green-blind 
persons. 


Comparison 
with  three-color 
persons. 


Fig.  97.    Red-blind  Persons.    Proportions  of  the 
Fundamental  Colors  in  the  Spectrum  Colors. 


colors.  If  these  two  fundamental  colors  are  green  and 
violet,  the  person  is  said  to  be  red-blind.  If  they  are 
red  and  violet,  he  is  called  green-blind.  The  violet- 
blind  persons  are  so  rare  as  not  to  need  notice. 

To  the  red-blind  person  red  objects  appear  in  general 
the  same  as  dark  green  or  greenish  yellow  ;   yellow  and 

orange  appear  as 
dirty  green  ;  green 
is  green,  but  is 
brighter  than  the 
false  greens. 

The  green-blind 
person  calls  red  a 
dark  yellow ;  yellow 
is  called  yellow  but  is  lighter  than  the  other  ;  and  green 
is  called  pale  yellow. 

The  red-blind  person  is  supposed  to  lack  the  funda-  , 
mental  red  color.  The  colors  he  sees  are  all  composed  of 
green  and  violet ;  his  color  triangle  (Fig.  91)  shrinks  up 
into  a  line  GV,  and  his  curve  of  spectral  colors  becomes 
a  portion  of  this  line. 
All  colors  of  nature 
are  to  him  mixtures 
of  green  and  violet, 
gray  (or  white)  be- 
ing about  the  middle 
of  the  line.  All  the 
colors  toward  red 
are  merely  variations  of  green  ;  all  the  purples  are  violets 
and  blues.  The  green-blind  person  lacks  the  green  ;  his 
range  of  colors  is  found  along  the  line  RV,  with  gray  in 
the  middle.  The  greens  and  yellows  are  reddish  grays  ; 
the  purples  are  also  grays  shading  off  into  red  or  violet. 


Fig.  98.   Green-blind  Persons.  Proportions  of  the 
Fundamental  Colors  in  the  Spectrum  Colors. 


Color  Sensitiveness.  175 


The    one-color   persons  see   everything  in  light   and.  One-coior 
shade,  presumably  gray.     Their  world  is  to  the  world  of 
most  people  what  a  photograph  or  an  engraving  is  to  the 
radiance  of  nature.      These  persons  are  quite  rare. 

One  case  is  related  of  an  architect's  assistant  who  did 
not  understand  in  the  least  what  was  meant  by  color ;  he 
said  that  the  colors  appeared  to  him  simply  shades  of 
white  and  black.      He  had  to  use  colors   in  preparing 
the  plans    of  build- 
ings but  was  guided 
bv  the  name  on  the 
paint.      One  of  the 
clerks   once  pur- 
posely  scraped    off 

the     names     and    he     Fig.  99.    One-color  Persons.    Proportion  of  the 
1        1  1  Fundamental  Color  in  the  Spectrum  Colors. 

used    the    colors 

wrongly.  A  friend  of  his  had  a  house  with  dark  oaken 
timbers  and  light  orange  plaster.  He  asked,  when  look- 
ing at  the  house,  why  the  plaster  was  so  much  darker 
than  the  wood.  His  friend  told  him  that  the  plaster  was 
very  much  lighter  than  the  wood,  but  he  refused  to 
believe  it.  In  a  photograph  which  was  afterwards  taken 
the  plaster  came  out  much  darker  than  the  oaken  timbers. 

The  phenomena  of  color-blindness  are  best  studied  The  worsted 
with  the  color-top,  but  as  the  use  of  the  top  requires  a 
great  expense  of  time  a  number  of  quicker  methods  have 
been  invented.  One  of  the  best  is  by  use  of  the  Holmgren 
w^ools.  This  consists  of  three  skeins  of  worsted  dyed 
with  three  standard  test  colors,  namely,  light  green,  pale 
purple,  and  bright  red.  Other  skeins  of  reds,  oranges, 
yellows,  yellowish  greens,  pure  greens,  blue  greens, 
violets,  purples,  pinks,  browns,  and  grays  are  used  as 
confusion  colors. 


test. 


176 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Results. 


Color- 
weakness. 


Lantern  test. 


Red  and  green 
signals. 


The  light  green  skein  is  laid  before  the  person  tested 
and  he  is  told  to  pick  out  of  the  heap  all  colors  that  are  like 
it.  Nothing  more  is  to  be  said  ;  names  of  colors  must 
not  be  used.  If  he  picks  out  grays,  brownish  grays,  yel- 
lows, orange,  or  faint  pink,  as  the  same,  he  is  color-blind. 
Now  the  purple  skein  is  laid  before  him.  If  he  picks  out 
blue  or  violet  as  the  same  he  is  red-blind ;  if  he  selects 
only  gray  or  green  he  is  green-blind.  As  a  clincher,  the 
red  skein  is  used.  A  red-blind  person  will  match  this 
with  dark  greens  or  dark  browns,  while  the  green-blind 
person  will  choose  light  greens  or  light  browns.  Are  we 
to  suppose  that  the  many  Englishmen  are  color-blind 
who  can  see  in  the  Irish  flag  only  a  symbol  of  anarchy  ? 

Numerous  modifications  of  this  method  of  testing 
have  been  used.  The  method  is  not  always  successful 
when  the  person  tested  is  not  color-blind  but  codor- 
weak.  He  may  be  able  to  pass  the  tests  in  a  bright 
light,  and  yet  he  cannot  distinguish  red  and  green  in  a 
fog,  or  he  may  have  perfect  color- vision  near  by  and  be 
color-blind  for  objects  at  a  distance. 

A  lantern  with  colored  glasses  is  sometimes  employed. 
A  color  is  shown  to  the  person  tested  ;  he  names  it. 
Other  colors  and  white  are  shown  in  succession.  Then 
gray  glasses  to  simulate  fog  are  used  over  the  colors,  in 
order  to  detect  the  color-weak. 

The  matter  of  color-blindness  has  been  brought  into 
notice  by  the  use  of  red  and  green  lights  as  signals  on 
railways  and  boats.  Red  means  "danger";  green 
means  ' '  all  right ' '  on  the  railway.  On  the  water  red  is 
the  port  side  of  the  boat,  green  is  starboard  side  ;  a 
pilot  knows  which  way  a  vessel  is  sailing  by  seeing  red 
or  green.  It  is  evident  that  any  inability  to  distinguish 
them  is  a  source  of  danger. 


Color  SensUiveyiess.  177 


blindness. 


The  steamship  Isaac  Bell  colHded  with  the  tugboat   Accidents  due 
Lumbtrman  near  Noiiblk,  \'irginia  ;  ten  H\-es  were  lost,    blindness. 
The  pilot  of  the  Lumberman  was  aftersvards  examined 
and  found  to  be  color-blind  ;  there  was  a  rumor  that  the 
other  pilot  was  also  color-blind. 

The  pilot  oi  the  steamer  City  of  Austria,  which  was 
lost  in  the  harbor  of  Fernandina,  Florida,  was  proved  to 
be  color-blind.  He  mistook  the  buoys,  and  his  mistake 
cost  the  owners  $200,000. 

Captain  Coburn  reports  :  ' '  The  steamer  Neera  was  a  case  of  color- 
on  a  voyage  from  Liverpool  to  Alexandria.  One  night 
shortly  after  passing  Gibraltar,  at  about  10:30  p.  m.,  I 
went  on  the  bridge,  which  was  then  in  charge  of  the 
third  officer,  and  competent  in  every  w^ay.  I  walked  up 
and  down  the  bridge  until  about  11  p.  m.,  when  the 
third  officer  and  I  almost  simultaneously  saw  a  light 
about  two  points  on  the  starboard  bow.  I  at  once  saw 
it  was  a  green  light,  and  knew  that  no  action  was  called 
for.  To  my  surprise  the  third  ofhcer  called  out  to  the 
man  at  the  wheel,  'Port,'  which  he  was  about  to  do, 
when  I  countermanded  the  order,  and  told  him  to  steady 
his  helm,  which  he  did.  and  we  passed  the  other  steamer 
safely  about  half  a  mile  apart.  I  at  once  asked  the 
third  officer  why  he  had  ported  his  helm  to  a  green 
light  on  the  starboard  bow  ;  but  he  insisted  it  was  a  red 
light  which  he  had  first  seen.  I  tried  him  repeatedly 
alter  this,  and  although  he  sometimes  gave  a  correct  de- 
scription of  the  color  of  the  light,  he  was  as  often  incor- 
rect, and  it  was  evidently  all  guesswork.  On  my  return 
I  applied  to  have  him  removed  from  the  ship,  as  he  was, 
in  my  opinion,  quite  unfit  to  have  charge  of  the  deck  at 
night,  and  this  application  was  granted.  After  this 
occurrence.  I  always,  when  taking  a  strange  officer  to 


178 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Another  case. 


Insufficiency 
of  the  test  by 
wools. 


Color-blindness 
among  the 
Quakers. 


sea,  remained  on  the  bridge  with  him  at  night  until 
I  had  tested  his  abiUty  to  distinguish  colors.  I  cannot 
imagine  anything  more  dangerous  or  more  Hkely  ta 
lead  to  fatal  accidents  than  a  color-blind  man  on  a 
steamer's  bridge." 

A  similar  account  is  given  by  Capt.  Heasley,  of  Liver^ 
pool  :  "After  passing  through  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar, 
the  second  officer,  who  had  charge  of  the  deck,  gave 
the  order  to  port — much  to  my  astonishment,  for  the 
lights  to  be  seen  about  a  point  on  the  starboard  bow 
were  a  masthead  and  green  light;  but  he  maintained 
that  it  was  a  masthead  and  red,  and  not  until  both  ships 
were  nearly  abreast  would  he  acknowledge  his  mistake. 
I  may  add  that  during  the  rest  of  the  voyage  I  never 
saw  him  making  the  same  mistake.  As  a  practical  sea- 
man I  consider  that  a  great  many  accidents  at  sea  arise 
from  color-blindness." 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  letter  by  a  "  thirty 
years'  railway  man."  "I  have  been  on  the  railway 
for  thirty  years  and  I  can  tell  you  the  card  tests  and 
wool  tests  are  not  a  bit  of  good.  Why,  sir,  I  had  a 
mate  that  passed  them  all,  but  we  had  to  pitch  into 
another  train  over  it.  He  couldn't  tell  a  red  from  a 
green  light  at  night  in  a  bit  of  a  fog." 

Color-blindness  is  hereditary.  Among  the  Quakers, 
for  example,  the  proportion  of  color-blind  persons  is 
about  one  half  greater  than  among  other  people. 
Nearly  every  Quaker  is  descended  on  both  sides  solely 
from  a  group  of  men  and  women  who  separated  them- 
selves from  the  rest  of  the  world  five  or  six  generations 
ago.  One  of  their  strongest  opinions  is  that  the  fine 
arts  are  worldly  snares  ;  their  most  conspicuous  practice 
is  to  dress  in  drabs.     A  born  artist  would  never  have 


Color  Sensitiveness.  179 


consented  to  separate  himself  from  the  soul-stirring  ar-  • 

tistic  productions  of  his  fellow-men  ;  he  would  have  felt 
that  such  an  action  would  be  treason  to  the  instincts  that 
God  planted  in  him.      It  is  quite  probable  that  Quaker-    Explanation  of 
ism  would  be  very  likely  to  attract  to  itself  not  only  customs, 
those  who  were  lacking  in  instinct  for  the  beautiful,  but 
also   those   actually   color-blind.       The    productions    of 
many   of   our   artists  must  appear  actually  hideous  to 
color-blind   persons  w^io    cannot  tell  the  difference   in 
color  between  a  strawberry  and  its  leaves.     Again,  the 
desertions  from  Quakerism  would  naturally  be  of  per- 
sons in  whom  these  instincts  and  abilities  were  stronger. 
Dalton,  the  discoverer  of  color-blindness,  was  a  Quaker. 
It  is  related  of  a  prominent  Quaker  that  he  returned 
from  town  one  day  with  a  bright  red  tie,  a  perfect  abom- 
ination to  his  family.      In  spite  of  the  trouble  aroused,  it  but  color- 


was  not  a  case  of  heresy  but  merely  of  color-blindness. 


blindness. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


SEEING   WITH    ONE    EYE. 


The  world  seen 
with  one  eye. 


Point  of  regard. 


Distinct  and 
indistinct 


Boundaries  of 
the  field  of 
vision. 


Let  us  look  at  the  world  with  only  one  eye.  What 
we  see  consists  of  patches  of  color  arranged  in  wonder- 
fully complicated  forms.  It  is  our  duty  to  determine 
some  of  the  laws  of  this  arrangement  in  space. 

The  first  fact  that  strikes  us  is  that  we  are  looking  at 
some  particular  point.  This  is  the  ' '  point  of  regard. ' ' 
In  looking  at  this  dot  0  your  point  of  regard  is  the 
dot.  As  you  read  onward,  your  point  of  regard  changes 
from  one  letter  to  another.  If  you  look  at  a  person  on 
the  street,  the  point  of  regard  is  that  person. 

Keeping  the  eye  steadily  looking  at  the  dot,  notice 
that  you  can  read  the  words  close  around  it  al- 
though they  are  somewhat  blurred,  and  that,  although 
you  can  see  over  a  whole  region,  including  the  page  and 
part  of  the  room,  all  this  region  is  quite  indistinct.  The 
fairly  clear  part  around  the  point  of  regard  is  the  region 
of  distinct  vision  ;  the  blurred  part  is  the  region  of  in- 
distinct vision.  The  whole  region  seen  is  called  the 
field  of  vision. 

The  boundaries  of  the  field  of  vision  are  determined 
by  moving  objects  from  outside  the  field  toward  it  until 
they  are  seen,  and  by  moving  them  from  the  center 
outward  till  they  disappear.  The  subject  of  experiment 
is  seated  in  a  chair  ;  one  eye  is  closed,  the  other  looks, 
without  moving,  straight  ahead  at  a  spot.      The  exper- 

180 


Seeing  with    One  Eye. 


i8i 


ooo# 


imenter  places  a  small  piece  of  white  paper  on  the  end 
of  a  knitting-needle  or  a  stick  and,  starting  behind  the 
subject,  slowly  pushes  it  forward  at  about  one  foot  from 
his  head  till  he  catches  sight  of  it.  The  paper  is  then 
started  where  it  is  seen  and  is  drawn  back  till  it  disap- 
pears.    This  marks  the  limit  of  vision  in  that  direction. 

The  limits  of  the  held  of  vision  are  determined  and  perimeter, 
recorded  rapidly  by 
means  of  perime- 
ters. One  form  is 
that  shown  in  Fig. 
IOC.  The  small 
piece  of  paper  is 
moved  out  along 
the  cur^-ed  arm  in 
one  direction  till  the 
limit  is  found.  The 
arm  is  placed  in 
various  positions 
and  the  experiment 
is  repeated.  The 
number  of  degrees 
is  read  off  each  time  Fi?-  ^°'^- 
and  is  marked  on  a 
chart.  A  line  drawn  through  these  points  indicates  the 
boundary  of  the  field  of  vision.  An  average  eye  will 
have  a  field  extending  outward  (/.  <?.,  away  from  the 
nose)  about  85°,  inward  75°,  upward  73°,  downward 
78°. 

If    the    experiments    on    perimetry    are    made   with   coior-Umits. 
colored  objects,  it  will  be  found  that  in  a  narrow  region 
along  the  edge  of  the  field  of  vision  the  person  can  see 
the   object  without  seeing  its  color.       In    fact,    in  this 


Perimeter,  for  Measuring  the  Field 
of  Vision. 


182 


Thinking ,   Feeliyig^   Domg. 


region  we  are  all  totally  color-blind  ;  we  see  everything 
in  an  indefinite  gray  color. 

It  was  formerly  supposed  that  just  inside  the  one- 
colored  region  there  was  a  red-blind  region  and  the  rest 
of  the  field  was  evenly  three-colored.  Recent  experi- 
ments indicate  that  the  case  is  not  so  simple. 

Inside  this  one-colored  border  the  object  takes  on  a 
color,  but  the  color  is  seldom  the  same  as  that  which  it 
has  when  seen  directly.     The  limits  at  which  objects  of 


y^ y'     ^"^ '-"'    N^^yc— vN^ 

//^ 

2>^''' 

y\/    ,,''''"/5^^Vr 

^'^^^^Vr-^ 

\  1 

J?S    60'      ^ 

^  y'sO'  ^*'''*    ^O'  /y'3^^20''  ^^-^ 

\ 

V       1 

'\    / 

1          \  i                  \  \ »       \           '*  ,— — X^^^^ 

1 

[     ' 

<i  • 

i-v. 

I          Tn             nV      \'''' Ji-^''V/ 

^^ 

\  I      '\ 

1    ^ 

'^'i.              ■         ^^^             '\\  ''^--'^C^      \   y'    '  / 

/    ^/>-^                  \ 

1   "--     i         ^x    iJc\^      vv  yl   y 

\        /,'       --^        ''i 

'~~~~        / 

•      ^r'"-,,-'--'^''''    \''\ — 7^  ''  1' 

\//                       ^^J~Tv^ 

7"--^ 

:i<"^^>/.  ^^^y^Y-r-'r 

\^\ 

X\j        /; 

S^^'^-S^s^ 

^^S^m, 

If'' 

7 

\\A 

^N^^^-~ — yt:;-::^:^ 

/ 

\'"'/^" 

/    '^^^^^^^ 

»'*' 

"\ 

/                      0 

Fig.  loi.    Perimeter  Chart.    Limits  beyond  which  the  colors  disappear : 
I,  Violet;  2,  Yellow;  3,  Green;  4,  Red;  5,  Orange;  6,  Blue. 


Field  of  vision 
in  children. 


various  colors  lose  their  ' '  true  ' '  colors,  i.  e. ,  the  colors 
when  directly  seen,  are  indicated  for  a  specimen  person 
in  Fig.   loi. 

Curiously  enough,  the  field  of  vision  with  children  is 
apparently  not  so  great  as  with  adults.  They  cannot  see 
over  so  much  for  any  position  of  the  eye.     The  *reason 


Seeing  with   One  Eye. 


183 


probably  is  that  they  are  incapable  of  attending  to  the 
outer  regions  ;  they  confine  themselves  to  the  region  near 
the  point  of  regard. 

In  the  field  of  vision  there  is  one  place  at  which 
nothing  is  seen  ;  this  is  called  the  blind-spot. 

With  the  left  eye  shut,  hold  the  book  at  arm's  length 
and  look  with  the  right  eye  at  the  cross  in  Fig,  102. 
The  letters  are  also  seen  indirectly.  Bring  the  book  slowly 
toward  you,  keeping  the  eye  fixed  on  the  cross.  Sud- 
denly the  B  will  disappear    entirely.     If  the   book   is 


Blind-spot. 


How  to  find  it. 


+ 


o 


B 


Fig.  102. 

brought  still  closer  the  B  will  reappear,  but  the  O  will 
disappear,  leaving  a  blank  space  between  A  and  B. 
There  is  one  portion  of  the  field  of  vision  on  which  you 
are  absolutely  blind. 

To  try  the  left  eye,  hold  the  book  upside  down. 

Although  man  and  his  animal  ancestors  have  always 
had  blind-spots  as  long  as  they  have  had  eyes,  these 
spots  were  not  discovered  till  about  two  hundred  years 
ago,  when  Mariotte  caused  a  great  sensation  by  showing 
people  at  the  English  court  how  to  make  royalty  en- 
tirely disappear. 

The  blind-spot  can  be   drawn   directly  on   paper  by   Howtodrawit. 
keeping  the  eye  fixed  on  the  cross  while  a   pencil  is 
moved  from  the  circle  outward  till  its  point  is  just  seen. 


Its  discovery. 


1 84 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Its  size. 


What  is  seen  at 
the  blind-spot. 


Puzzling  the 
blind-spot. 


In  this  way  a  dotted  boundary  line  for  the  spot  is  ob- 
tained. 

The  bhnd-spot  ordinarily  covers  a  region  equal  to  the 
face  of  a  man  seven  feet  distant,  or  eleven  times  the  size 
of  the  full  moon. 

What  do  you  see  at  the  blind-spot  ?  Everything  dis- 
appears that  is  put  in  the  region  covered  by  it.  Yet 
there  must  be  something  there ;  for,  if  the  O  in  Fig. 
1 02  be  made  to  disappear,  the  letters  are  no  nearer  to- 
gether than  when  the  circle  is  seen. 

The  blind-spot  must  be  seen  as  white,  for  the  whole 
region  appears  unbroken.  Yet  if  this  experiment  is 
made  on  colored  paper  the  whole  region  is  of  the  same 
color.  Papers  or  cards  of  various  colors  can  be  readily 
prepared  to  illustrate  this.  We  are  thus  forced  to  the 
conclusion  that  although  we  are  blind  over  this  region, 
we  fill  out  the  lacking  space  by  an  unconscious  act  of 
imagination  and  that  it  is  filled  out  in  accordance  with 
the  surrounding  region. 

Let  us,  however,  try  to  puzzle  the  blind-spot.  A 
card  is  prepared  with  colors  as  shown  in  Fig.  103.      Let 


Fig.  103.     Putting  a  White  Circle  on 
the  Blind-Spot. 


Fig.  104.    The  Circle  is  Replaced  by 
the  Colors. 


the  white  circle  fall  on  the  blind-spot.     The  card  will  ap- 
pear as  in  Fig.  104. 

Try  a  card  colored  as  in  Fig.  105.    If  the  circle  falls  on 
the  blind-spot  it  will  be  filled  out  as  in  Fig.  106. 


Seeing  with   One  Eye. 


185 


What    will  happen 
now? 


Now  try  a  card  like  Fig.  107,  with  the  circle  brought 
into  the  blind  region.  At  last  the  spot  is  puzzled.  One 
moment  the  blue  band  will  run  across  the  red  one  ;  at  an- 
other the  red  will  run  across  the  blue.  Sometimes  after 
many  trials  the  spot  seems  to 
despair  and  the  person  owning  it 
declares  that  he  really  sees  noth- 
ing there. 

In  looking  at  a  printed  page 
the  portion  that  falls  on  the 
blind-spot  appears  to  be  printed 
with  indistinct  letters,  as  though 
it  were  pretending  to  read. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  the  space 
around  the  blind-spot  is  not  con- 
tracted. If  the  circle  in  Fig.  102 
falls  on  the  blind-spot,  the  letters 
A  and  B  are  no  nearer  together, 
although  quite  a  space  has  ap- 
parently been  removed. 

Up  to  this  point  nothing  has 
been  said  of  motion  in  con- 
nection with  vision.  We  can 
move  our  point  of  regard  at  will. 
Indeed,  the  point  of  regard  cannot  be  kept  steadily  on 
any  object.  Try  to  look  steadily  at  the  white  dot  in  Fig. 
109.  You  will  soon  see  the  edges  of  the  white  circle 
blurred  over  by  the  black  edges.  The  point  of  regard 
trembles  and  sways  like  the  pointer  described  on  page 
74.  Some  persons  of  nervous  temperament  cannot 
approach  even  a  moderate  degree  of  steadiness. 

We  have  already  noticed  that  the  point  of  regard  can 
be  moved  around  in  any  direction.      It  is  mainly  by  our 


Fig.  106.    The  Result. 


+ 


Fig.  107.    A  Puzzler  for  the 
Blind-Spot. 


Deception  by 
the  blind-spot. 


No  influence  on 
space. 


Movement  of 
the  point  of 
regard. 


i86 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Difiference  in 
difficulty  for 
different 
directions. 


knowledge  of  such  movements  that  we  judge  the  size  of 
objects. 

It  is   readily   noticed    that   when    the   head   is   held 
upright  and  the  point  of  regard   is   taken  directly  in 


-h 


Fig.  io8. 


Although  the  blind-spot  pretends  that  it 
can  read  and  will  attempt  to  deceive 
by  making  this  space  appear  covered 
with  letters,  yet,  if  you  look  steadily  at 
the  cross  (with  ^^  the  left  eye 
closed)  and  ^^  place  the  book 
at  such  a  distance  that  the  black  dot 
disappears,  i.  e.,  falls  on  the  blind-spot, 
you  will  find  that  the  letters  imagined  by 
the  blind-spot  are  only  indefinite  marks. 

The  Blind-Spot  Pretends  to  Read. 


Errors  in 

estimating 

space. 


front,  the  upward  movement  is  more  difficult  than  the 
side  movements  or  the  downward  movements.  Let  us 
measure  these  movements  on  each  other. 

Put  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  on  a  board  and  place  a 
dot  in  the  middle.  Holding  it  directly 
in  front  of  the  eye  so  that  the  dot  is  at 
the  point  of  regard  looking  straight  for- 
ward, draw  four  equal  lines,  as  indicated 
in  Fig.  no.  On  measuring  these  lines 
the  vertical  one  above  the  dot  will  be 
found  shorter  than  the  vertical  one  be- 
low. Both  will  be  shorter  than  the  horizontal  lines  ; 
the  horizontal  lines  will  generally  be  equal.  We  can 
thus  conclude  that  space  above  the  point  of  regard  in 
the  usual  position  is  overestimated  as  compared  with 
space  below  ;  that  space  in  a  vertical  direction  is  over- 
estimated as  compared  with  horizontal  space  ;  and  that 
horizontal  space  inward  or  outward  is  about  the  same. 


Fig.  109.  Test  for  Eye 
Steadiness. 


Seeing  with   One  Eye. 


187 


A 


\ 


Fig.  no. 


This  explains  why  c  and  not  b  seems  the  continuation 

of  a  in  Fig.  iii. 

Placing  a  dot  on  the  paper  in  the  same  way,  draw  a   Apparent  and 

square  around  it.      By  turning  the  square  sidewise  you   ^''"^  square. 

will   see     that    you 

have  really  made  it 

too    short.      Turn 

this   book    upside 

down.      What   do 

you  notice  in  regard 

to  the  letter  s  and 

the  figure  8  ?    Why 

are  they  made  so  ? 
When   the   point 

of    regard    moves 

upward     it     has    a 

tendency  to  move  outward 

it  moves  also  inward. 

Looking  at  the  edge  of  the  room,  you  will  notice  that 

as  you  look  rapidly  along  it  toward  the  ceiling  the  whole 

edge  seems  to  tip  inward.      With  the  right  eye  it  tips 

a  toward  the  left,  with  the  left  eye 

toward  the  right.  As  you  look 
rapidly  downward  toward  the 
floor,  the  edge  appears  to  tip  in 
the  opposite  direction. 

This  tipping  is  very  disagree- 

^  able  in  the  cities  of  tall  build- 

.   ings.       If  you  happen  to  look 

at  them  from   one  side  of  the 

eye,    they  seem   to  be   leaning   dangerously    over   the 

street  ;  if  from  the  other,  they  seem  to  slant  back  as  if 

disdaining  the  streets  below  them. 


What  the  Eye  Considers  to  be  Equal 
Distances. 

when  it  moves  downward, 


Tipping  of 
vertical  lines. 


Fig.  III.    Which  is  the  continu 
ationofa?    Why? 


i88 


Thinki7ig,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Illusions  of 
distance. 


Interrupted 
distance. 


Constraint  in 
movement. 


The,  amount  of  this  tipping  in  the  eye  can  be  meas- 
ured. Rule  a  horizontal  line  on  a  sheet  of  paper  ;  then 
lay  the  edge  of  the  ruler  across  it  at  what  you  judge 
with  one  eye  to  be  a  right  angle  and  draw  the  line.  On 
another  sheet  of  paper  do  the  same  for  the  other  eye. 
Your  two  right  angles  will  disagree  to  a  small  extent. 

Distances  are  judged  by  the  difficulty  in  traversing 


A 


B 


Fig.  112.    Illusion  of  the  Interrupted  Distance. 

them  ;  if  the  road  is  hard,  or  if  you  make  many  stops  by 
the  way,  it  is  much  longer  than  otherwise. 

The  distance  between  the  two  dots  A  and  B  in  Fig.  112 
is  apparently  greater  than  that  between  B  and  C.  The 
intervening  dots  are  like  tempting  seats  by  the  wayside. 


Fig.  113.    Illusion  of  Filled  Space. 

The    journey   is    really    made    harder   and   apparently 

longer  because   your   attention  is  caught  at  each  one. 

The    open    distance   in    Fig.     113    is    apparently  less 

^  <2'    than    the  line-distance.      It 

..'^  is    harder    to    walk    on    a 

straight   and    narrow    path 

than  to  go  as   you  please ; 

you    may    go    perfectly 
straight  anyway,   but    with 

Fig.  114.    Which  is  the  continuation  .  ,. 

ofo?   Why?  no   directmg    line    you   are 

free  from  constraint.     This  explains  why  the  continua- 
tion of  <2  in  Figs.  114  and  115  appears  to  be  at  c. 

We  have  learned  to  estimate  distances  by  movements 


i^^ 


Seemg  with   One  Eye, 


189 


of  the  point  of  regard,   and   the  whole  visual  field  is   Errors  without 

,  ,  1-1  T-  -1  movement. 

regulated  accordingly.      Even    without    movements    we 
make  the  same  errors  of  estimation. 

The  illusion  in  Fig.  1 16  is  on  the  same  principle  as  that 
^         ^  in  Fio-.  ii-:i.     The  effect  depends  on  the   ,  „ 

*^\  .  .  Influence  of 

relation  of  the  number  of  cross-lines  to   cross-lines, 
the  distance  ;  with  too  many  or  too  few 
it  is  not  so  powerful. 

The  square  A  in  Fig.    117    appears 


Fig.  116.     The  Interrupted  Distance. 


Fig.  115.      Continu 

ation  of  a  seems 

to  be  c.    Whv  ? 


too  long  and  B  appears  too  tall  for  the 

same  reason. 
Fig.  119  shows  the  same  illusion  for  angles. 
It  is  evident  from  these  facts  why  women  like  to  have 


B 


Fig.  117.    The  Distorted  Squares. 


Illusion  in 
dress. 


as  many  bows,  ribbons,  buttons,  etc.,  as  possible  on  the 
dress.  The  more  the  surface  of  the  dress  is  broken  up 
the  taller  the  person.      The  B  J^ 

illusion  is  heightened  by  the 
diversity  of  colors  employed. 
In  viewing  two  lines  meet- 
ing at  an  angle,  the  smaller   i 

1         •  A.'        ^    A  Fiff.  118.      Which  is  the  continu- 

angle    is    overestimated    as         ^    ation  of  a?  Why? 


Estimation  of 
angles. 


190 


Thinkings   Feeli7ig,   Doing. 


Small  thing^s 
and  big  things. 


Illusions  by 
angles. 


compared  with  the  larger.      The  effect  is  to  press  the 
sides  of  the  smaller  angle  outward. 

It  is  a  general  law  of  mental  life  that  small  things  are 


Fig.  119.     The  Enlarged  Angle.        Fig.  120.    Displacement  by  Inclined  Lines. 


a^. 


B 


\ 


thought  greater  than  they  are  in  com- 
parison with  large  ones.  It  requires  a 
special  effort  to  realize  that  a  dime  is 
only  T¥o  part  of  $10.00;  one  of  six 
pieces  of  pie  seems  to  be  greater  than  \ 
of  a  whole  pie. 

The  two  horizontal  lines  in  Fig.  1 20 
do  not  seem  to  be  parts   of  the  same 
•    straight  line  because  the  acute  angles 
Fig.  121.   Why?     ^j.g  overestimated  and  the  lines  are  ap- 
parently bent  from  the  horizontal.      A  striking  method  of 
showing  this  illusion  is  to  draw  a  horizontal  line  on  a 


\. 


Fig.  122.    Breaking  Parallel  Lines. 


Seemg  with   One  Eye. 


191 


slate  and  then  after  drawing  two  inclined  lines,  as  in  the 
figure,  to  erase  the  middle  portion.  In  spite  of  the  fact 
that  the  two  horizontal  lines  are  known  to  belong  to  the 


Fig.  123.     Tipping  Parallel  Lines. 


Fig.  124.     Bending  Straight  Lines. 

same  straight  line  the  illusion  is  irresistible.  This  tipping 
of  a  line  in  the  direction  in  which  an  acute  angle  points 
is  intensified  when  a  number  of  angles  are  made,  as  in 
Fig.  122.  The  top  line,  for  example,  has  acute  angles 
above  it  which  tip  it  downward  toward  the  right  and 


192 


Thi7iking,   Feelings   Doing. 


V 


A 

Fig.  125.  Changing 
the  Length  of  a 
Line  by  Different 
Cross-lines. 


Fig.  127.  Explana- 
tion of  Fig.  125. 
We  estimate  by 
areas. 


Fig.  326.     Illusion  of  the  Crinoline. 


Seeing  with   0?ie  Eye. 


193 


acute  angles  below  it  which  tip  it 
upward  at  the  left.  The  second  line 
is  affected  in  the  opposite  way.  The 
horizontal  lines  are  really  parallel.  See 
also  Fig.  123. 

A  continually  increasing  change  of 
direction  is  shown  in  Fig.  124.  The 
two  horizontal  lines  appear  curved. 

There  is  still  another  class  of  illusions 
resting  on  a  mistake  of  attention.  The 
vertical  lines  in  Fig.  125  are  all  of  the 
same  length,  although  apparently  quite 
different. 

Fig.  126  shows  how  the  crinoline 
makes  people  appear  shorter. 

The  reason  for  this  illusion  is  this  : 
whereas  we  suppose  ourselves  to  be  com- 
paring the  vertical  lines,  we  are  really 
paying  attention  to  and  comparing  the 
areas  between  the  cross-lines.    The  areas 
between  the  cross-lines  in  Fig.  127  are  / 
about  equal,  and  we  judge  both  parts  of  <j- 
the  line  to  be  equal,  whereas  measure-     \^ 
ment  shows  them  to  be  unequal. 

In  Fig.  128  the  judgment  of  height 
is  influenced  by  the  total  space  occu- 
pied by  the  person's  clothing. 

Why  do  tall  men  dress  in  sober  colors 
and  wear  frock  coats,  while  short  men 
prefer  dark  cutaway  coats  with  silk  vest 
and  light  trousers  ?  Both  kinds  of  il- 
lusion, that  of  interruption  and  that  of  pig.  128.  why  the  Bi- 
mistaken  attention,  come  into  play.  soshor?'^^  Appears 


Explanation. 


194 


Thinkmg,   Feelings   Doing. 


Mistaken 
attention. 


Mistaken  attention  raises  the  dots  in  Fig.  129   above 
their  true  place  at  the  level  of  the  lower  line. 


Illusion  of  con- 
trast. 


Sir  Roger's 
mistake. 


Depth  of  the 
world  seen 
with  one  eye. 


Fig.  129.    The  Attracted  Dots. 

The  appearance  of  Fig.  130  depends  entirely  upon 
attention. 

Still  another  source  of  illusion  is  contrast  between 
length  and  breadth.     Broad  things  seem  shorter. 

"The  vast  jetting  coat  and 
small  bonnet,  which  was  the 
habit  in  Harry  the  Seventh's 
time,  is  kept  on  in  the  yeomen 
of  the  Guard  ;  not  without  good 
and  politic  view,  because  they 
look  a  foot  taller  and  a  foot  and 
a  half  broader  ;  besides  that,  the 
cap  leaves  the  face  expanded 
and  consequently  more  terrible 
and  fitter  to  stand  at  the  en- 
trance of  palaces."  This  is  Sir 
Roger  de  Coverley's  obser- 
vation ;  how  would  you  ex- 
or  a  Stairway?"  p^g^^^  his  mistake  ?  See  Fig.  131. 

Up  to  this  point  nothing  has  been  said  about  the  depth 
or  distance  of  objects.  Is  the  world  of  one  eye  a  flat 
surface  ? 

On  entering  into  a  strange  house  with  one  eye  band- 
aged it  is  difficult  to  obtain  an  accurate  idea  of  the  dis- 
tance of  objects.  The  whole  place  seems  almost  flat. 
Looking  out  of  a  window  with  one  eye,  the  view  appears 
almost  as  if  painted  directly  on  the  window-pane. 


Fig.  130.  An  Overhanging  Cornice, 


Seeing  ivith   One  Eye. 


195 


^■^ 


We  know  from  experience  that 
objects  decrease  in  size  as  they 
recede.  From  the  rear  platform 
of  a  railway  train,  the  houses,  sig- 
nals, persons,  tracks,  etc.,  can 
actually  be  seen  to  shrink  to- 
gether. If  we  know  the  actual 
size  of  an  object  we  can  esti- 
mate the  distance  ;  if  we  know 
the  distance  we  can  estimate  the 
size. 

In  estimating  the  distance  of 
unknown  objects  we  are  guided 
greatly  by  the  view  of  the  ground 
in  front  of  them.  Thus  a  tree  seen 
down  the  road  can  be  roughly 
estimated  in  height  because  the 
objects  along  the  road  afford  an 
indication  of  the  distance. 

Since  our  opinion  of  the  size  of 
an  object  depends  on  the  apparent 
distance,  any  illusions  of  distance 
will  produce  illusions  of  size. 

The  fact  that  subdivided  dis- 
tance appears  greater  than  undi- 
vided distance  was  illustrated  in 
Fig.  112.  In  looking  toward  the 
horizon,  the  glance  meets  in- 
numerable objects  that  break  up 
the  space,  whereas  in  looking 
directly  upward  we  find  a  perfectly 
clear    space.       Consequently    ob-   pig.  131.   illusion  of  the  Yeo- 

,      •  1        •  .II*         .•  men  of  the  Guard.     Thenien 

jects  m  a  horizontal  direction  ap-      are  of  equal  height. 


Size  and 
distance. 


Foreground. 


Illusions  of 
size  and 
distance. 


Horizon  is  far 
away. 


196 


Thinkiyig,   Feelings   Doing. 


Shape  of  the 
sky. 


Why  the  moon 
changes  its 
size. 


Shades  and 
shadows. 


pear  more  distant  than  objects  in  a  vertical  direction. 
For  this  reason  the  sky  does  not  appear  Hke  the  inner 
surface  of  a  ball,  but  like  the  under  side  of  a  watch-glass. 
The  amount  of  this  flattening  is  readily  determined. 
Stars  lying  23°  above  the  horizon  are  apparently  half 
way  toward  the  top.  In  Fig.  132  you  are  standing  at  A. 
Lines  are  drawn  from  A  at  an  angle  of  23°  to  the  flat 


Fig.  132.    Shape  of  the  Sky. 

ground  HH  on  which  you  stand.  The  sky  must  there- 
fore appear  of  such  a  shape  that  a  line  drawn  from  B 
to  H  is  half  the  distance  from  H  to  Z.  Such  a  surface 
is  indicated  by  the  curved  line. 

Owing  to  the  objects  seen  on  the  earth,  the  moon  ap- 


Fig.  133.     The  Moon  Illusion. 

pears  to  be  much  further  away  when  it  rises  than  it  does 
when  it  is  overhead  with  nothing  between.  The  moon  is 
seen  by  the  eye  as  the  same  in  both  cases,  but  the  moon 
near  the  horizon  is  apparently  larger  because  it  seems 
further  away. 

Another  means  of  judging  distance  is  found  in  shades 
and  shadows.  With  one  eye  closed  and  with  the  back 
to  the  light,  hold  a  mask,  preferably  painted  inside,  so 
that  the  seeing  eye  looks  directly  into  the  inside.  If  no 
shadows    are    cast,   the    eye    is   unable  to    tell  whether 


Seeing  with   One  Eye.  197 

it  is  looking  at  the  inside  or  the  outside.  For  example, 
the  nose  will  at  one  moment  appear  to  be  a  hollow  nose 
pointing  away  from  the  observer  and  at  the  next  a  solid 
nose  pointing  toward  him.  But  the  moment  a  shadow  is 
allowed  to  fall  by  a  change  of  light,  the  eye  knows  at 
once  that  the  hollow  side  is  turned  toward  it. 

Another  influence  regulating  our  estimate  of  distance  unciearness  of 
and  therefore  of  size  is  the  unciearness  of  the  air.     The   ^^^  ^^^' 
air  nearly  always  contains  a  quantity  of  mist  which  makes 
objects  bluer  and  more  indefinite  as  the  distance  increases. 

In  the  perfectly  clear  air,  such  as  is  common  in  the 
dry  regions  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  or  in  portions  of 
Maine  and  Canada,  the  distance  of  objects  is  often  quite 
a  puzzle.  A  canoeist  on  a  lake  in  such  an  atmosphere 
cannot  tell  whether  an  island  in  front  of  him  is  one  mile 
or  ten  miles  away. 

When  a  dweller  from  a  dry  or  moderate  region  visits 
the  sea-coast,  he  is  subject  to  great  deceptions.  The 
Hudson  River  at  Tappan  Zee  is  wider  than  at  Twenty- 
third  Street  in  New  York  City  ;  yet  the  latter  distance 
usually  appears  the  greater,  owing  to  the  haziness 
of  the  coast  atmosphere.  The  illusion  disappears,  of 
course,   on  a  clear  winter's  day. 

The  coast-dweller  is  subject  to  the  opposite  illusion  in 
the  mountains,  and  innumerable  tales  are  told  of  trav- 
elers who  start  for  a  before-breakfast  walk  to  a  neighbor- 
ing hill  which  is  really  twenty  miles  away. 

Those  who  have  come  into  a  cloud  while  ascending  a 
mountain  will  remember  that  a  small  wood-pile  looks 
like  a  barn,  a  cow  appears  larger  than  an  elephant,  men 
are  giants,  etc.  Painters  use  ' '  atmosphere ' '  to  show 
the  distance  of  objects  in  a  landscape. 

There  are  also  illusions  of  both  size  and  distance  due   Association. 


198 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing, 


Shadows. 


Emotion. 


to  association.  Clocks  and  flags  on  towers  appear 
much  smaller  than  they  really  are,  because  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  house  clocks  and  moderately  sized  flags.  The 
clock  of  the  Battel!  Chapel  as  seen  from  the  Yale  campus 
at  a  distance  of  200  feet  appears  about  two  feet  in  diam- 
eter ;  its  actual  size  is  ten  feet. 

A  tall  object  casts  a  longer  shadow  than  a  shorter 
one.  During  the  greater  part  of  the  day  the  shadows 
cast  by  the  sun  are  of  moderate  size,  but  early  in  the 
morning  or  late  in  the  evening  they  become  enormously 
large.  This  exaggeration  we  cannot  resist,  and  so  at 
those  times  trees  and  houses  appear  much  taller  than 
usual. 

There  is  another  influence  to  which  I  think  no  one  has 
ever  called  attention,  namely,  the  emotion  produced  by 
the  object.  In  dim  light,  as  at  night,  most  persons  feel 
an  indefinite  uneasiness,  which  in  nervous  persons  and 
children  often  actually  amounts  to  fear  and  terror.  This 
uneasiness  or  fear  exaggerates  the  size  of  the  object. 
On  a  dark  night  the  mountains  around  an  inclosed  lake, 
e.  g. ,  the  Lake  of  Como,  assume  an  overwhelming  as- 
pect and  appear  far  higher  than  by  broad  daylight  or  in 
pleasant  moonlight.  In  approaching  a  wharf  the  build- 
ings and  posts  are  imposing  in  size.  The  stories  of 
frightened  children  are  not  exaggerations,  but  true  com- 
parisons of  the  apparent  sizes  of  terrifying  and  non- 
terrifying  objects.  A  similar  reason  may  explain  the 
"  snake  stories." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

SEEING    WITH    TWO    EYES. 

When  the  eyes  in  succession  are  opened  and  closed   The  world  seen 
rapidly,  objects  seem  to   form  different  pictures  for  the   entvvays/  ^^' 
two  eyes.     When  both  eyes  are  opened,  a  third  view  is 
obtained.     The  world  as  seen  with  the  left  eye  differs 
from  the  world  as  seen  with  the  right  eye  ;  the  world  as 
seen  with  both  eyes  is  again  a  different  matter. 

In  our  usual  experience  we  see  the  world  as  a  single 
world,  although  we  have  two  eyes  that  see  differently. 
When  we  lose  control  over  our  vision,  as  in  a  state  of 
intoxication,  the  two  eyes  are  liable  to  act  independently 
and  things  are  seen  double. 

The  view  with  the  right  eye  is  what  would  be  seen 
with  the  left  eye  if  it  were  moved  a 
short  distance  to  the  right,  and  like- 
wise the  left  eye  sees  what  the  right 
eye  would  see  if  moved  toward  the 
left.  The  pictures  differ  only  in  the 
point  of  view. 

The  view  with  both  eyes  has  a  re- 
lief, a  rotundity,  that  is  wholly  lack- 
'*^/'      ing  in  the  one-eye  views. 
^"-^  In  looking  at  a  book  with  the  right 

eye  we  get  the  flat  view   as  in  Fig. 
with   the   left    eye   we  get   the   flat  view 


:=^ 


Two  different 
one-eve  views. 


{^ 


Fi> 


134- 


Fig- 135- 


as    m 


134 

Fig.    135.      But   with    both    eyes    the  book    appears  in 


199 


200 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


The  funda- 
mental fact  of 
binocular 
vision. 


Uniting  images 
from  the  two 
eyes. 


Eliminating  the 
extra  images. 


relief.  We  imagine  we  see  the  book  as  in  Fig.  136. 
What  we  really  see  is  shown  in  Fig.  137. 

This  union  of  two  different  flat  views  into  a  single 
solid  view  is  the  fundamental  fact  of  two-eyed  seeing, 
or  binocular  vision.  The  union  is  unconsciously  per- 
formed and  is  irresistible.  Why?  Let  us  trace  the 
process  step  by  step. 

Holding  the  head  directly  above  these  two  dots,  let 


the  eyes  stare  as  in  reverie,  i.  e. ,  looking  far  behind  the 
paper.  Four  dots  will  be  seen,  each  eye  seeing  two  dots. 
If,  however,  you  look  at  some  imaginary  object  not  far 
behind  the  paper,  the  two  middle  dots  will  come  together. 
There  will  then  be  three  dots,  the  middle  one  being  a 
combination  of  one  dot  from  each 
eye.  This  can  be  very  plainly  seen 
by  sticking  the  two  dots  on  a 
window-pane  or  a  piece  of  glass  ; 
when  you  look  at  some  object  at  a 
proper  distance  beyond  the  glass, 
the  two  middle  dots  fuse  together. 

After  the  union  of  the  two  middle 
pictures  into  one  the  two  outer  ones 
are  still  faintly  seen.     To  be  rid  of 
these    outside    pictures    all    that   is      ^'^"  ^^'^' 
needed  is  to  place  a  strip  of  paper  from  the  nose  to  the 
middle  point  between  the  two  dots.     This  makes  it  evi- 
dent that  the  single  dot  seen  is  a  compound  of  the  dot 
from  the  right  eye  with  the  dot  from  the  left. 

Exactly  the  same  fact  is  illustrated  in  Fig.  138,  where 
the  problem  is  to  put  the  bird  in  the  cage.  A  visiting 
card  is  placed  from  the  line  AB  to  the  nose,  the  eyes  are 


Fig. 136. 


Seeing  with    Two  Eyes. 


20I 


relaxed  and  the  bird  goes  into  the  cage  without  difficulty. 

Most  persons  find  it  tiresome  or  difficult  to  observe  The  stereo- 

.  scope. 

views  in  the  way  just  described.     The  presentation  of 


B 

Fig.  13S.     Put  the  Bird  in  the  Cage  bj-  Binocular  Vision. 

pictures  to  the  eyes  separately  is  most  conveniently  done 
by  the  stereoscope,  of  which  one  kind  is  shown  in  Fig. 
139.  A  card  containing  the  two  pictures  is  placed  on  the 
bottom.  The  left  eye  sees  only  the 
left-hand  picture,  the  right  eye  only 
the  right. 

The  principle  of  the  stereoscope 
consists  in  bringing  together  the  mid- 
dle pictures  for  each  eye  and  in  avoid- 
ing the  outer  ones.  This  is  most  com- 
monly done  by  means  of  prismatic 
lenses. 

The  prism  stereoscope  contains  two 
glass  prisms  n,  p,  with  a  partition  be-   pj^  ^^^    ^^^  ^^.^^^ 
tween  and  in  front  of  them.      It  is  a        stereoscope. 
property  of  prisms  that  an  object  which  is  at  m  when 


Its  principle. 


Action  of  the 
prism  stereo- 
scope. 


202 


Thinking,   jFeeling,   Doing. 


The  prisms  are 
also  lenses. 


The  book 
stereoscope. 


directly  viewed,  apparently  changes  its  position  to  some 
such  place  as  c  when  seen  through  the  prism.  The 
amount  and  direction  of  the  change  depend  on  the 
character  of  the  prism.  Two  prisms  can  be  so  chosen 
that  for  the  left  eye  a  picture  at  m  is  transferred  to  c  and 
for  the  right  eye  a  picture  at  o  is  transferred  to  the  same 
place.  The  two  impressions  from  different  eyes  will 
then  be  united.  The  prisms  are  usually  so  adjusted  that 
the  distance  from  in  to  o  is  2I  inches. 

It  is  desirable  that  the  prisms  should  at  the  same  time 
be  lenses,  for  the  following  reason.  In  experimenting 
with  the  two  dots  it  will  have  been  noticed  that  when  the 
gaze  was  directed  to  a  point  beyond  them  they  were 
seen  blurred  around  the  edges.  There  are  very  few 
people  who  can  make  each  eye  look  straight  forward  and 
yet  see  near  objects  distinctly.  When  looking  at  dis- 
tant objects  their  eyes  are  far-sighted  for  near  objects. 

As  it  is  necessary 
to  have  the  stereo- 
scopic  pictures 
near  at  hand  and 
yet  have  the  lines 
of  regard  parallel, 
the  far-sightedness 
is  corrected  by 
lenses.  The  two 
prisms  must  thus 
also  be  magnifying 
lenses. 

In  order  to  present  stereoscopic  views  to  my  reade;rs 
I  have  had  them  printed  (for  the  first  time)  ready  for 
the  application  of  the  stereoscope  directly  to  the  book. 
The  simplest  method  is  to  unscrew  the  back  portion  of 


Fig.  140.     The  Book  Stereoscope ;  How  to  Use  it. 


Seeing  with   Two  Eyes. 


203 


any  stereoscope  and  hold  it  to  the  eyes  directly  before 
the  picture  in  the  book,  as  shown  in  Fig.  140.  Three 
views  will  be  seen  (Fig.  141)  ;  the  one  in  the  middle,  C, 
is  the  view  produced  by  the  combination  of  views 
from  the  right  and  left      4.  c  ^ 

pictures,  and  the  others, 
A,  B,  are  extra  views. 
Another  method  is  to 
cut  off  the  end  of  the 
stick  of  the  stereoscope 
till  the  book,  when 
placed  against  the  end, 
is  at  just  the  proper  dis- 
tance. There  are  no 
extra  pictures  in  this 
case. 

When    two   like  pic- 
Fig.  141.    Action  of  the  Book  Stereoscope. 

tures  are  placed  so  that 

the  prisms  cause  them  to  fall  exactly  on  the  same  spot, 
the  images  are  seen  as  one.  The  two  heads  in  Fig. 
142  appear  as  one  head. 

When  the  two  pictures  are  not  alike,  they  make  a  com-  combining  un 

like  pictures. 


Combining-  two 
like  pictures. 


Fig.  142.     Two  Like  Pictures. 


pound  figure,  as  in  Figs.  143,  144.  When  two  pictures 
are  farther  apart  than  the  distance  of  the  middle  points 
of  the  prisms,  they  fall  beside  each  other.  In  Fig.  145  the 
vertical  bars  are  at  the  proper  distance  for  union,  w^hereas 


204 


Thmking,   Feelhig,   Doingi 


the  horizontal  projections  are  too  far  apart.  The  result  is 
a  cross.  The  outline  of  the  vertical  bar  is  darker  because 
the  black  line  of  one  picture  falls  on  the  black  line  of 


I  ^ 


Fig.  143.     Unlike  Pictures  to  be  Combined. 

the  other,  whereas  the  black  line  of  the  horizontal  bar 
in  one  picture  falls  on  the  white  space  of  the  other. 
Up  to  this  point  the  results  of  two-eyed  vision  have 


Fig.  144.     Prometheus. 


Double  images  ; 
crossed  dis- 
parity. 


been  flat  pictures.     The  production  of  the  effect  of  ob- 
jects in  relief  is  not  quite  so  simple. 

Let  two  pencils  be  held  upright  before  the  eyes  in  a 
line  directly  in  front  of  the  nose  and  at  about  four  inches 


V       V 


'      / 

7 
7 

/ 

/ 

V 

Fig.  145.     The  Cross. 


Seeing  with   Two  Eyes. 


205 


= 


Uncrossed  dis- 
parity. 


apart.  When  looking  at  the  farther  pencil  you  see  two 
nearer  pencils,  as  in  Fig.  146.  The  image  L  belongs  to 
the  left  eye  because  it  disappears  when  that  eye  is  closed  ; 

R    belongs    to    the   right  eye. 

This    condition   of    the    extra 

images    is    called    crossed   dis- 
parity; it  is  to  be  remembered 

that    objects    nearer   than   the 

point  of  regard  are  seen  with 

crossed  disparity. 

On    looking    at  the   nearer 

pencil,    the  farther  appears 

double  (Fig.  147).     By  closing 

one  eye  it  is  evident  that  the 

farther  pencil  is  seen  with  un- 
crossed disparity. 

Thus  when  we  look  at  any 

point,  the  objects  nearer  than  "^     '         padty^to  dL?'^" 

that  point  are  seen  with  crossed  disparity,  those  farther  ^^^nce. 
than  it  with  uncrossed  disparity. 

Now  hold  a  single  pencil  with  one  end  pointing  to  the 
nose  about  two  feet  away  and  the  other  straight  in  front,  relief. 
Looking  at  the  farther  end,  you  would  expect  the  nearer 
end  to  be  seen  as  two  ends  in  crossed  disparity  (Fig.  148)  ; 
looking  at  the  nearer  end  you  would  expect  to  see  two 
farther  ends  in  uncrossed  disparity  (Fig.  149) ;  looking 
at  the  middle  you  would  expect  to  see  both  ends  double 
in  opposite  ways  (Fig.  150).  Since  the  pencils  are  con- 
tinuous to  the  ends,  you  would  expect  the  double  vision 
to  extend  down  to  the  point  of  regard.  What  you 
actually  see  is  one  pencil  m  r^/z<?/"( Fig.  151).  The  con- 
tinuity of  the  object  transforms  the  double  image  into  a 
single  one  with  a  new  property.      By  practice  it  is  pos- 


Fig. 146. 

Crossed 

Disparity. 


Fig. 147. 
Uncrossed 
Disparity. 


Production  of 


2o6 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Fundamental 
law  of  relief. 


sible  to  overcome  this  union  ;  a  pencil  will  then  be  seen 
as  a  double  one. 

The  fundamental  law  of  binocular  relief  is  this  :    Two 
different  fiat  pictures  of  the  same  object  will  be  co^nbined 


Fig.  148.    What  we  would  Ex- 
pect when  Looking  at  the 
Farther  End. 


Fig.  149.    What  we  would  Ex* 

pect  when  Looking  at  the 

Nearer  End. 


Fig.  150.    What  we  would  Expeci. 
when  Looking  at  the  Middle. 


Fig.  151.   What  we  Actually  See. 


into  a  relief,  if  each  picture  is  such  as  would  be  seen  by 
the  corresponding  eye  singly. 

If  the  two  pictures  in  Fig.  152  are  seen  with  the  stereo- 
scope, the  result  is  a  union  of  the  two  lines  into   one 


Seeing  with   Two  Eyes. 


207 


line  slanting  away,  because  the  two  views  are  drawn  as 
such  a  line  would  appear  to  the  eyes  used  singly. 

If  two  appropriate  views  be  presented,  as  in  Fig.  153, 
the  result  is  a  figure  in  relief  indicating  a  pyramidal  box. 


Fig.  152.     The  Slant  Line. 

It  is  possible  to  tell  beforehand  whether  the  box    is   Foretelling  the 
seen  from  the  inside  or  from  the  outside.     As  the  small  the  laws  of 
squares  are  at  the  regular  distance  apart  the  point  of  re- 
gard is  found  in  the  small  end  of  the  box.     The  large 


V. 


Fig.  153.    The  Pyramidal  Box. 

squares  are  too  far  apart  and  are  not  crossed  ;  this  end 
of  the  box  must  be  seen  in  uncrossed  disparity.  But 
objects  seen  in  uncrossed  disparity  are  farther  away 
than  the  point  of  regard  ;  consequently  the  large  end  of 
the  box  is  farther  away.  We  are  therefore  looking  at 
the  outside  of  the  box. 


2o8 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


If  the  outer  squares  are  drawn  so  as  to  be  seen  in 
crossed    disparity,    the    larger    end    of  the    square    is 


u 


w 
E 


Different  re- 
lations of  dis- 
parity. 


nearer  than  the  smaller    end  and   we    are    apparently 
looking  at  the  inside  of  a  box. 

These  relations  are  shown  in  Fig.  154.  The  outer 
circles  for  each  pair  are  at  the  proper  distance  apart  and 
unite  to   form  the  base  at  the    point    of  regard.     The 


Seeing  with    Tico  Eyes. 


209 


smaller  circles  are  seen  in  different  relations  of  disparity, 
with  the  effect  that  the  pictures  form  a  series  of  funnels, 
the  bottom  one  being  long  and  pointed  toward  the  ob- 
server, the  next  being  shorter  but  likewise  pointed,  the 


3 


C. 
& 

o 
U 

Si 


M 

£ 


middle  one  being  a  flat  disk,  the  fourth  being  short  and 
pointed  away,  and  the  topmost  one  being  long  and  like- 
wise pointed. 

From  these  principles  it  will  be  easy  to  explain  the 


2IO 


Thinking,   Feelings   Doing. 


Other  results  of 

binocular 

vision. 


Binocular  strife. 


crystals  shown  in  Figs. 
i55>  156,  157-  The  dia- 
gram in  Fig.  158  is  built 
upon  the  same  laws. 

Finally,  the  stereoscopic 
views  of  buildings,  per- 
sons, and  landscapes,  such 
as  can  be  obtained  every- 
where, are  resolvable  into 
the  same  principles  aided 
by  the  shading,  shadows, 
and  perspective. 

In  addition  to  the  ef- 
fect of  relief  which  we  gain 
by  stereoscopic  vision 
there  are  several  other 
important  results  of  two- 
eyed  seeing.  Among 
them  are  :  ( i )  binocular 
strife,  (2)  binocular  luster, 
and  (3)  binocular  con- 
trast. 

Binocular  strife  is  pro- 
duced when  the  two  dif- 
ferent views  are  separately 
presented  to  the  two  eyes. 
In  Fig.  159  the  various 
rings  are  filled  with  lines 
in  different  directions  ; 
what  happens  when  they 
are  combined  with  the 
stereoscope?  One  of  the 
rings  is  filled  with  shading 


Seeing  with    Two  Eyes. 


211 


which  slants  in  one  direction  for  the  left  eye  and  in  the 
other  direction  for  the  right  eye.     The  result  is  peculiar. 


Fig.  159.     Binocular  Strife 

Very  rarely  do  the  two  sets 
of  lines  combine  to  form 
crossed  shading.  Sometimes 
the  left-hand  shading  alone 
appears,  sometimes  the  right- 
hand  shading  wins  ;  gener- 
ally the  two  alternate  fre- 
quently and  irregularly.  If 
you  happen  to  think  of  one 
kind  of  shading,  that  ap- 
pears. But  you  cannot  keep 
either  kind  for  more  than  an 
instant ;  the  other  will  replace 
it.  It  seems  to  be  largely  a 
matter  of  attention.  Yet,  the 
most  frequent  aspect  of  all  is 
that  the  shading  is  in  patches ; 
the  left-hand  picture  predom- 
inates in  parts  while  the  right- 
hand  one  occupies  the  rest. 
And  the  queer  thing  about 
it  is  that  these  parts  are  con- 
tinually changing.  The  inner 
circle  behaves  in  the  same 
way.  It  is  in  truth  a  strife 
between  the  two  eyes. 


PQ 


be 


212 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


Ordinary  luster. 


Binocular 
luster. 


Binocular  con- 
trast. 


Binocular  luster,  or  polish,  is  so  called  from  the  re- 
semblance of  the  effect  to  actual  polish.  A  polished 
object  contains  a  contradiction  in  itself      Its  little  marks, 

irregularities,  and  corners 
remain  the  same,  although 


changes  in  the  position  of 

the  light  and  in  the  ob- 

^  jects  near  it  are  followed 

^    by  changes  in  the  reflec- 

«    tion.     A   polished   door- 

I    knob  differs  from  an  un- 

'g    polished  one  by  partially 

^    reflecting  the  lights  from 

■^    surrounding    objects; 

I    there  is  a  strife  between 

§    the  color  and  general  ap- 

g    pearance  the  knob  would 

■^    have  if  unpolished  and  the 

I   appearance  of  effects    of 

t    surrounding  objects. 

3        In  Fig.  1 60  the  left  eye 

I    receives  an  impression  of 

'^    a  white  crystal   and   the 

vS    right  eye  one  of  a  black 

bi)   crystal :  when  viewed  with 
£  1 

a  stereoscope,  the  same 

space   is    covered    by   a 

different  color  for  the  two 

eyes.      The    result    is    a 

beautiful,  lustrous,  translucent  crystal,  showing  changes 

of  light  and  dark  as  the  binocular  strife  enters  into  effect. 

Binocular  contrast  is  so  called  because  the  result  of  a 

binocular  strife  depends  somewhat  on  the  surroundings. 


Seeing  with    Two  Eyes.  21 


In  Fig.  161  we  would  expect  an  effect  of  binocular  luster 
and  binocular  strife.  We  do  get  them,  but,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  most  prominent  points  of  each 
figure,  the  corresponding  color  overpowers  the  other. 
Thus,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  angel  Michael  the 
white  is  strongest,  while  around  Lucifer  the  black  over- 
powers the  light. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


FEELING. 


The  term, 
"  feeling.' 


Like  and  dis- 
like. 


Indifferent  ex- 
periences. 


The  word  feeling  is  employed  in  many  meanings. 
We  speak  of  feeling  hunger  and  thirst,  and  of  feeling 
pain.  We  also  say  that  love  and  hate,  joy  and  sorrow, 
care  and  hope,  are  feelings.  We  tell  of  feelings  of  the 
beautiful  and  the  ugly,  of  feelings  of  truth,  honor,  and 
virtue.  What  is  the  common  property  that  brings  all 
these  into  relation  ?  There  is  one  connecting  link  among 
them  ;  they  express  like  or  dislike. 

The  mental  fact  which  we  express  by  liking  or  dislik- 
ing is  what  we  shall  term  "  feeling."  It  is  true  that  we 
sometimes  say  a  thing  feels  hot,  feels  rough,  etc.,  but  we 
need  not  fear  any  confusion  with  feelings  of  liking  and 
disliking. 

We  have  thus  two  simple  feelings,  liking  and  dislik- 
ing. There  is  no  objection  to  calling  them  two  "  quali- 
ties of  feeling,"  just  as  the  many  rainbow  colors  can  be 
called  "qualities  of  color,"  but  there  is  no  necessity  for 
doing  so. 

Some  of  our  experiences  arouse  no  feeling  ;  they  are 
indifferent.  We  do  not  care  whether  our  neighbor  wears 
a  fresh-looking  coat  or  a  rusty  one.  The  people  of  Chi- 
cago do  not  care  whether  their  streets  show  a  clear  stone 
pavement  or  reek  with  mud.  Most  sensations,  however, 
arouse  some  feeling  ;  there  are  very  few  things  for  which 
we  have  neither  a  liking  nor  a  dislike. 

The  state  of  our    feelings    depends    on  the  strength 

214 


Feeling.  215 

of  the  impression  that  arouses  them.      For  example,  a  dependence  of 
moderately  sweet  taste,  as  of  sugar,  is  agreeable  ;  an  in-   strength  of  the 
tensely  sweet  taste,  as  of  saccharine,  is  disagreeable.     A  impression. 
moderate  degree  of  saltiness  is  pleasant,  but  a  strong  de- 
gree is  distasteful.      Even  a  faint  bitterness,  as  in  beer, 
is  liked  by  some  persons,  while  the  intense  bitterness  of 
quinine  is  revolting. 

Feelings  are  connected  with  all  sorts  of  experiences.    Feelings  con- 
Muscular  exertion,  or  action  of  any  kind,   may  arouse   muscular 
feelings.      Moderate   activity    is    generally  pleasurable  ;   ^^  '^'  ^' 
but   tiredness,    over-exertion,    and    unhealthiness,    may 
bring  about  intense  unpleasantness. 

The  extreme  pleasure  of  muscular  exercise  can  be  felt 
only  by  persons  who,  like  the  children  in  many  schools, 
are  forced  to  remain  in  one  seat  for  hours.  In  some 
class-rooms  during  a  whole  morning  the  children  are  not 
allowed  to  leave  their  seats  ;  I  have  been  a  pupil 
in  classes  where  positive  terror  kept  us  from  making  any 
unnecessary  movement.  Oh,  the  joy  of  jumping  down 
whole  flights  of  stairs  after  school  was  over  ! 

From  nearly  every  organ  in  the  body  we  receive  some 

•  ^  FGclins'S  con- 

sensation.  The  stomach  makes  itself  known  by  hunger  nectedwith 
or  repletion ;  the  throat  is  heard  from  when  thirsty,  thirst. 
Each  of  these  sensations  may  arouse  feelings.  Thus, 
hunger  and  thirst  are  disagreeable  ;  repletion  and  quench- 
ing of  thirst  are  agreeable.  Other  sensations,  such  as 
of  the  liver,  were  originally  very  strong,  but  with  ad- 
vancing culture  and  age  they  have  to  a  large  extent  dis- 
appeared. The  feelings,  however,  still  remain  strong. 
An  overloaded  stomach  or  a  disordered  liver  is  liable  to 
make  us  look  upon  the  world  in  a  very  dismal  light;  the 
disagreeable  feeling  from  such  a  source  has  overpowered 
all  the  others. 


2l6 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Esthetics  of 
taste. 


Influence  of 
touch  and  tem- 
perature on 
taste  feelings. 


Feelings  con- 
nected with 
colors. 


There  are  some  persons,  known  as  "gourmets,"  who 
devote  themselves  to  a  study  of  pleasing  combinations 
of  tastes  and  smells.  The  fine  feeling  of  the  French  in 
this  matter  has  led  to  the  development  of  the  race  of 
French  cooks.  The  puritanical  austerity  of  New  Eng- 
land has  brought  about  an  almost  total  decay  of  the 
feeling  of  the  beautiful,  which  exhibits  itself  not  only  in 
its  ugly  wooden  houses  and  hideously  somber  garb,  but 
also  in  its  unsesthetical  pies,  doughnuts,  and  baked 
beans. 

The  influence  of  touch  and  temperature  on  our  likings 
for  tastes  is  so  entirely  overlooked  that  scientists  have 
been  deceived  into  supposing  that  there  was  some  actual 
chemical  difference  corresponding  to  the  difference  in 
agreeableness  of  taste  between  things  which  were  really 
mixed  with  various  touch  and  temperature  sensations. 

A  draught  direct  from  the  old  oaken  bucket  has  a 
taste  quite  different  from  the  same  water  drunk  from  a 
glass.  Water  from  a  tin  cup  is  intolerable,  yet  coffee 
from  a  tin  cup  is  far  superior  to  coffee  in  any  other  way. 
The  reason  is  a  purely  psychological  one  ;  the  different 
sensations  of  touch  and  temperature  mingle  with  the 
sensations  of  taste  to  produce  agreeable  combinations. 

Various  objects  are  liked  or  disliked  according  to 
their  characters.  Strong  bright  colors  are  always  liked. 
Any  one  looking  at  the  rainbow  colors  would  be  tempted 
to  exclaim,  "All  colors  are  beautiful!"  This  effect  is 
very  pronounced  when  the  eye  looks  directly  at  the 
light  thrown  back  by  a  spectrum-grating  (page  i6o)  ; 
all  the  colors  from  red  to  violet  and  purple  are  of  an 
indescribable  beauty. 

White  itself,  when  not  too  strong,  is  just  as  beautiful. 
Since  we  cannot  look  directly  at  the  sun,  the  light  must 


Feeling.  217 

be  weakened  by  reflection.  This  is  done  by  the  method 
described  on  page  160.  White,  as  seen  from  such  a 
surface,  possesses  a  beauty  as  great,  if  not  greater,  than 
the  rainbow  colors. 

When  the  colors  are  mixed  with  white,  less  beautiful  Feelings  con- 
colors  are  obtained.  No  pink  can  be  produced  that  is  pure^ colors.  ^"^' 
equal  to  pure  red  ;  no  pale  green  that  is  as  beautiful  as 
pure  green.  The  whitish  skies  of  our  colder  climates 
cannot  be  compared  with  the  deep  blue  sky  of  Italy. 
When  a  color  or  white  is  darkened,  /.  e.,  made  less 
strong,  its  beauty  is  lessened.  Grays  and  shades  are 
not  comparable  with  full  colors.  It  is  when  both  these 
changes  are  made  that  indifferent  or  disagreeable  colors 
are  obtained.  Grayish  pinks  or  grayish  browns  or  drab 
blues  are  somber  and  unpleasant. 

Colored  tablets  are  sometimes  given  to  children  with  the 
command  to  pick  out  the  prettiest  one.  They  generally 
pick  out  the  yellow,  not  because  (as  the  teacher  supposes) 
it  has  anything  to  do  with  sunlight,  but  simply  because  it 
is  the  brightest  color  in  the  particular  set.  With  some 
sets  of  ' '  spectrum  ' '  tablets  inflicted  on  American  school 
children  the  dull  gray  red  is  such  a  disagreeable  color 
that  the  children  persistently  avoid  it  until  the  teacher 
succeeds  in  producing  the  desired  deformity  in  the  color 
feelino^s. 

In  general  we  can  say  :  pure  white  sunlight,  when  not  summary  of 
too  strong,  is  beautiful  ;  the  rainbow  colors  are  beauti-   fedfngs.'^^  °^ 
ful  ;  these  all  become  less  pleasing  when  less  strong  ; 
the  colors  become  less  pleasing  when  mixed  with  white  ; 
the  most  disagreeable  effects  are  produced  by  mixtures 
of  gray  (weaker  white)  with  shades  (weaker  colors). 

Among  all  the  good  things  of  life  nature  is  the  most 
beautiful,  art    is  second,  and  science — why  should    not 


2i8  Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 

science  be  third  ?  The  most  beautiful  colors  and  combi- 
nations we  see  are  the  colors  of  the  spectrum  series — 
science's  colors.  They  lack  form  ;  nature  makes  flower- 
forms  out  of  science's  colors  and  we  have  all  the  glories 
of  the  fields  ;  the  flowers  are  nature's  colors.  Art  takes 
nature's  flowers  and  puts  poetry's  meaning  into  them. 
Flowers  as  symbols  of  life,  light,  and  love  are  art's  colors. 
Feelings  con-  We  have  thus  far  spoken  only  of  single  colors.     When 

nected  with  .  .         ,       ,  ...  t 

color  combi-        colors  are  combined,  the  combination  may  produce  an 
agreeable   or  a   disagreeable  eflect,   depending  on  the 
relation  of  the  two  colors. 
Combinations  In  the  first   placc,  any  combination  of  the    rainbow 

always  agree-  colors  is  agreeable.  In  the  rainbow  or  the  spectrum  they 
are  all  there  together.  In  fact,  when  colors  approach 
the  brilliancy  of  the  rainbow  colors,  as  in  stained  glass, 
almost  any  combination  appears  fairly  good.  This  is 
one  reason  why  the  patterns  in  a  kaleidoscope  have  been 
of  so  little  value  in  decorative  art ;  for  when  the  colors 
are  most  carefully  imitated  in  coarser  materials  they  are 
apt  to  lose  their  brilliancy  and  to  produce  disagreeable 
effects.  To  a  lesser  degree  this  applies  also  to  silk  ; 
many  color  combinations  worked  out  in  this  material  are 
tolerable  on  account  of  their  brightness,  while  the  same 
designs  if  made  in  wool  or  cotton  appear  very  poor. 
,     .  Nevertheless,  even  with  the  brisfhtest  spectrum  colors, 

Most  pleasing  _  . 

combinations,  some  pairs  are  more  pleasiug  than  othcrs.  If  the  colors 
of  the  spectrum  be  arranged  in  a  circle  so  that  comple- 
mentary colors  (page  167)  are  opposite  each  other,  it  can 
be  laid  down  as  a  rule  established  by  experiment  that  a 
combination  of  two  colors  is  more  agreeable  the  more 
nearly  they  are  complementary. 

When  two  grays  are  combined  together,  the  eflect  is 
more  pleasing   the  more  they  differ.      White  and  black 


Feeling.  219 

are  the  most  pleasing  of  all.      When  a  color  is  combined    combinations 
with  gray,  or  when  two  colors  of  different  shade  or  tint   iigh[|nd  dark°^ 
are  combined,  the  most  pleasing  effect  is  obtained  when   '^^^°^^- 
the    difference  is   greatest.        A  light  red  and   a    dark 
green  will  be  better  than  a   moderately  light  red  and  a 
moderately  dark  green.     Yet  even  this  last  may  be  bet- 
ter than  a  light  green  and  a  dark  blue,  because  red  and 
green  as  colors  give  better  effects  than  green  and  blue. 
To  get  the  full  effect  we  should  use  double  contrast  : 
(i)  of  complementary  colors,  and  (2)  of  light  and  dark.    Psychological 
For  example,  we  should  combine  bright  red  with  dark   i?^\ere.sies. 
bluish  green  or  dark  red  with  light  bluish  green,  bright  or- 
ange with  dark  blue  or  dark  orange  with  bright  blue,  etc. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  these  statements  are  rank 
heresies  in  decorative  art.  Still  they  are  the  combina- 
tions preferred  by  unprejudiced  individuals.  The  bright 
colors  and  strong  contrasts  are  preferred  by  children,  by 
savage  tribes,  by  the  peasantry,  and  also  in  former 
periods  of  art. 

Why  should  we  not  be  allowed  to  enjoy  the  combina-  Appeal  to 
tions  of  color  as  nature  shows  them  to  us  ?  Nature  dec-  "^'^"^^• 
orates  her  fields,  hills,  and  skies  with  the  most  gorgeous 
colors ;  we  northern  nations  decorate  our  towns,  our 
homes,  and  our  persons  with  the  dullest  combinations 
we  can  find.  Any  one  who  attempts  to  put  a  little  life 
into  our  colors  is  decried  as  an  uncultured  being.  As 
Ruskin  says:  "  The  modern  color  enthusiasts  who  insist 
that  all  colors  must  be  dull  and  dirty  are  just  like  people 
who  eat  slate-pencil  and  chalk  and  assure  everybody  that 
they  are  nicer  and  purer  than  strawberries  and  plums. 
The  worst  general  character  that  decorative  coloring  can 
possibly  have  is  a  prevalent  tendency  to  a  dirty  yellow- 
ish green,  like  that  of  a  decaying  heap  of  vegetables.     It 


220 


Thhiking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


is  distinctively  a  sign  of  a  decay  of  color  appreciation." 

In  these  remarks  on  modern  taste  I  have  referred  to 

the  tastes  of  the  general  public.      I  must  except  from 


Fig.  162.     Single  Symmetry, 
Horizontal. 


Fig.  163.     Single  Symmetry, 
Vertical. 


Feelings  con- 
nected with 
form. 


First  law  of 
beauty  in  divi- 
sion of  forms. 


them  the  newer  schools  of  design  and  also  the  pretty 
girls  of  New  York,  who  have  lately  taken  to  the  use  of 
harmonious  combinations  of  bright  colors. 

The  products  of  art  please  or  displease  us  not  only  on 
account  of  their  color  but  also  on  account  of  their  form. 
The    elements    of   space    as    exciting   pleasure    can    be 


Fig.  164.     Double  Symmetry, 


Fig.  165.    Threefold  Symmetry. 


classed  into  the  division  of  forms  and  the  direction  of 
bounding  lines. 

In  regard  to  the  division  of  forms,  we  notice  first  that 
regular  forms  are    preferable  to  irregular   ones.       The 


Feeling. 


221 


simplest  kind  of  regularity  is  symmetry,  i.  e. ,  the  like- 
ness of  the  two  halves.  Horizontal  symmetry,  z.  e., 
likeness  of  parts  on  each  side  of  a  vertical  line,  is  the 
most  preferred.  Double  sym- 
metry is  better  than  single.  The 
more  complicated  the  symmetry 
becomes,  the  better  we  like  the  re- 
sult. The  degree  of  symmetry  is 
denoted  by  the  number  of  lines 
that  can  be  drawn  through  the  cen- 
ter whereby  the  half  of  the  figure 

on  one  side  of  the   line   is  just  the    ^'S- 166.  Fourfold  Symmetry. 

opposite  of  the  half  on  the  other  side.  A  plain  circle 
is  in  perfect  symmetry  in  every  direction,  but  it  becomes 
much  more  pleasing  when  made  into  a  rosette. 


Fig.  167.     Eightfold  Symmetry. 


Another  kind  of  regularity  is  found  in  a  definite  re- 
lation of  height  to  breadth.  The  perfect 
square  is  very  displeasing  because, 
owing  to  the  overestimation  of  the  ver- 
tical direction  (page  187)  the  figure  ap- 
pears to  be  slightly  too  tall ;  it  seems 
to  impel  us  to  make  it  correct.     As  the 

Fig.i68.    Perfect,  but  ,  .        -  ,  ...... 

Simple,   Symmetry  actual  square  IS  Shortened  we  dislike  it 

in  All  Directions.        ,  i     /^       ii  i  •  ,       i 

less,  and,  finally,  when  it  appears  to  be 
a  perfect  square,  we  consider  it  a  very  pleasing  figure. 


The  pleasing 
square. 


222 


Thinkmg,   Peeling,   Doing. 


The  pleasing 
rectangle. 


-Esthetics  of 
form. 


Of  course,    by  actual  measurement   it    is    no   longer  a 
square,  but  it  is  a  square  as  far  as  we  are  concerned. 

If  a  square  be  changed  to  a  rectangle,  it  is  less  pleas- 
ing than  before,  unless  there  is  a  certain  relation  between 
length  and  height.      Suppose  in  Fig.   170  the  square  at 
X  to  be  successively  lengthened  in 
the   direction  X'.       Careful    experi- 
ments have  proven  that  the  degree 
of  pleasure  follows  some  such  course 
as   indicated  by  the  line  SG.     When 
the  relation  of  the  two  sides  is  actu- 
Fig.  169,   Combinations  of  ally  I  times  I  the  figure  is  very  dis- 
ymme  ry.  pleasing.     When   it  is  equal  to   an 

apparent  square  the  pleasure  is  considerable,  S.     As  it 
grows    in  length  the  pleasure  at   first   decreases,  then 
increases  till  at  a  relation  1:1.618  it  is  at  a  maximum,  G. 
We  have  now  reached  the  border-land  between  psy- 


Fig.  170.    The  Law  of  Pleasing  Relations  of  the  Dimensions  of  a  Rectangle. 

chology  and  the  aesthetics  of  form,  and  at  the  same  time 
we  have  come  to  the  end  of  our  definite  experimental 
knowledge.  The  writers  on  architecture,  painting,  draw- 
ing, and  decoration  have  produced  numberless  specula- 
tions on  the  psychological  principles  underlying  the 
beautiful  and  the  ugly.  How  far  each  is  right  we  can- 
not say  ;  as  psychologists  we  have  no  call  to  meddle  till 
experimental  evidence  can  be  produced. 


Feeling. 


223 


"  If  I  were   not  Alexander,  I  would  be   Diogenes."    pleasure  in 
Probably  no  artist  {i.  <?. ,  form  artist  or  color  artist)  ever 
lived  who  would  not  choose  in  the  second  place  to  be  a 
musician,  a  tone  artist.     What  are  the  laws  of  feeling  in 
regard  to  musical  tones  ? 

Perfectly  pure  tones,  like  those  from  good  tuning- 
forks,  seem  hollow  and  less  agreeable  than  tones  from 
the  musical  instruments,  which  are  really  compound 
tones.  The  tone  of  a  violin,  for  example,  is  composed 
of  a  main  tone  and  a  great  number  of  weaker  tones, 
such  as  the  octave  above,  etc. ,  whereas  the  tone  of  a 
flute  is  nearly  simple. 

Further  than  this  there  is  very  little  that  can  be  said  in 
regard  to  tone-feeling. 

If  we  look  closely  at  the  feelings,  especially  in  their  Feelings  accom- 

,         ji        1        ,  ■,  1  panied  bv  inter- 

more  mtense  stages,  we  can  nardly  doubt  that  they  are  nai  sensations. 
invariably  accompanied  by 
actual  sensations  from  parts  of 
the  body.  These  sensations 
often  attain  an  intensity  equal 
to  that  of  the  sensations  aroused 
by  direct  external  or  internal 
stimulation.  Sometimes  they 
may  be  even  localized  with 
some  degree  of  definiteness. 
They  also  show  a  determinate 
quality  which  varies    with  the 

general  condition  of  feelings,  and  which  is  reflected  in  the 
expressions  which  we  employ  to  describe  this.  All  ex- 
cessive feeling  is  attended  by  physical  pain,  whether  dif- 
fused over  the  body  generally  or  restricted  to  a  particu- 
lar organ.  Moderate  excitations  also  affect  the  sensa- 
tions, though  less  strongly,  and  are  more  definitely  local- 


^A/Vv 


\-^VV/VA 


Fig.  171.  Change  of  Pulse  as  a 
Result  of  Pleasure.  (The  record 
runs  this  way  :  4 ) 


224 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doi7ig. 


Poetical  locali- 
zation of  the 
feelings. 


The  heart's  re- 
lation to  feeling. 


ized.  References  to  this  localization  of  the  sensations 
in  particular  states  of  feeling  are  found  in  ancient  litera- 
ture. Every  passion  was  supposed  to  be  seated  in  a 
particular  organ  ;  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  where 
observation  was  wanting  imagination  took  its  place. 
Anger  was  placed  in  the  liver,  envy  in  the  spleen,  the 
higher  emotions  in  the  organs  of  the  breast.  Even  to- 
day the  heart  is  the  seat  of  the  most  various  affective 
states.  Care  and  disappointed  hope  bring  on  heart- 
ache ;  despair  dies  of  a  broken  heart  ;  love  through  all 
its  changes  and  chances  has  its  source  and  center  in  the 
heart ;  courage  has  a  lion-heart,  and  ' '  faint  heart  never 
won  fair  lady. ' ' 

There  is  really  good  reason  for  this  relation  of  the 

heart's  activity  to  the  state 
of  feeling  ;  for  the  heart 
nerves  are  those  most  easily 
excited  by  changes  in  our 
feelings.  Every  excitation 
of  feeling  manifests  itself  in  a 
weaker  or  stronger,  quicker 
or  slower,  heart-beat.  Joy 
and   hope    make   the   pulse 

Fig  172.    Change  ofPulse  as  a  Result     quick    and     StrOUg.  The 

of  Anger.     (The   record   runs  this      >■  ^ 

way:.^ — )  pulsc-Hne,    as   traced    on  a 

smoked  drum,  rises  as  the  intensity  of  the  beat  is 
stronger,  and  the  beats  come  more  rapidly  when  the 
person  experiences  a  very  pleasant  feeling.  Care  and 
anxiety  render  it  weak  and  slow ;  terror  arrests  it 
And  there  are  many  indications  that  other 

It  has  often 

been  noticed  that  violent  anger  results  in  a  return  of  the 
bile  to  the  blood,  which  means  a  derangement  of  the 


Relation  of 

other  organs  to    altogether. 

organs  react  to  such  changes  of  feeling 


Feelmg.  225 

function  of  the  liver.     The  tear-glands  are  very  easily- 
excited  bv  the  feelino:  of  sorrow.      And  we  should  un- 
doubtedly  discover  other  similar  connections  were  it  not 
that  they  have  no  external  symptoms.      Besides  the  par- 
ticular organ  which  is  especially  concerned  in  a  particu- 
lar state  of  feeling,  there  are  always  other  organs  more 
or  less  affected  ;  and  it  is  the  complex  of  sensations  re- 
sulting  from  the  sum   total  of 
these  separate  sensations   that 
constitutes  the  mass  of  internal 
feelings  and  sensations.       The 
muscles,  for  example,  are  almost 
always  involved  in  this  second- 
ary  excitation.     We   have  di-   ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H    The 
rect    experience  of  the  energy 
and  tension,  or  of  the  exhaustion 
and  relaxation  of  our  muscles  :   ^'%-  ^"3-  rS]t'^"f^  ""^^^^^^  ^^  ^ 

Result  of  Fright.     (The  record 

and  our  general  states  of  feel-  ^^"^  ^^"^  ^^'^>"^-  ^ — ) 
ing  are  altogether  different  according  as  the  limbs  are 
movable  and  elastic  or  are  heavy  loads  to  weigh  the 
body  down.  A  feeling  of  joy  and  excitation  makes 
movement  easy  and  prompt ;  a  depressing  feeling  ren- 
ders it  slow  and  heavy. 


CHAPTER     XVII. 


EMOTION. 


Emotions  are 
complex. 


Their  wide 
influence. 


Feelings  in-  The  preceding  chapter  treated  of  the  simple  cases  of 

fluence  thought,  iji^jng  ^nd  disHking.     But  when  we  like  anything,  our 

course  of  thought  generally  becomes  different  from  what 

it  would  have  been  if  we  had  disliked  it  ;  and  likewise 

the  reverse. 

The  complex  processes  of  thought  and  feeling  com- 
bined are  generally  called  emotions.  They  are  among 
the  most  important  mental  phenomena,  exerting  a 
marked  influence  both  upon  thought  and  voluntary 
action.  They  are  reflected  in  certain  expressive  move- 
ments. These  are  further  connected  with  reactions  of 
the  heart,  the  blood-vessels,  the  respiratory  muscles,  and 
certain  secretory  organs,  which  take  on  a  special  char- 
acteristic form  in  each  particular  emotion. 

The  general  subject  of  the  emotions  has  been  so 
clearly  stated  by  Wundt  that,  at  the  present  stage  of 
psychological  investigation,  I  cannot  do  better  than  fol- 
low his  treatment  for  the  rest  of  this  chapter. 

The  typical  emotion  has  three  stages  :  an  initial  feel- 
ing ;  a  subsequent  change  in  the  train  of  ideas,  intensi- 
fying and  qualitatively  modifying  the  initial  feeling ; 
and  (always  supposing  that  the  emotion  is  distinct  and 
well  defined)  a  final  feeling,  of  greater  or  less  duration, 
which  may  possibly  give  rise  to  a  new  emotion  of  which 

The  principal  difference  be- 


Analysis  of  an 
emotion. 


it  forms  the  initial  feeling. 


226 


Efnotion. 


227 


of  emotions. 


Physical  effects 
of  emotion. 


tween  feeling  and  emotion  consists  in  the  second  stage 
— the  alteration  in  the  train  of  ideas.  The  presence  Two  classes 
of  this  alteration  enables  us  to  divide  emotions  into  two 
classes,  excitant  and  inhibitory.  Instances  of  the  former 
are  joy  and  anger  ;  of  the  latter,  terror  and  fear.  At 
the  same  time,  all  very  intensive  emotions  are  inhibitory 
in  character,  and  it  is  only  when  they  have  run  some 
part  of  their  course  that  their  excitant  side  comes  to 
consciousness.  On  the  physical  side,  the  effect  of  emo- 
tion upon  the  train  of  ideas  is  accurately  reflected  in 
external  movement.  The  excitant  emotion  quickens 
thought  and  involves  heightened  mo\'ement  of  face  and 
limbs,  increase  of  heart  activity,  and  dilating  of  the 
blood-vessels  ;  the  inhibitory  emotion  paralyzes,  or  at 
least  relaxes,  the  muscles,  slows  the  heart-beat,  and  con- 
tracts the  vessels.  All  these  physiological  effects  have 
their  accompaniment  of  sensations,  which  intensify  the 
feelings  in  the  emotion. 

Less  intensive  degrees  of  emotion  are  called  moods. 
It  is  a  general  rule  that  the  duration  of  emotion  varies 
inversely  with  its  intensity  ;  so  that  moods  are  more  per- 
manent states  of  mind  than  emotions  proper.  Violent 
emotions  are  sometimes  termed  "passions."  The  name 
indicates  that  strongly  emotional  states,  which  oscillate 
between  liking  and  disliking,  tend  invariably  toward  the 
side  of  the  latter.  * '  Passion ' '  also  implies  that  a  partic- 
ular emotion  has  been  habitual.  Hence  the  word  is 
often  used  to  denote  a  permanent  condition  which  finds 
its  expression  in  frequent  outbursts  of  emotion. 

The  most  indefinite  emotions  arejoyand  sorrow.   When   sorrow. 
sorrow  is  directed  upon  the  external  object  which  excites 
it,  we  call  it  care.     We  can  only  be  careful  about  others, 
and  if  we  wish  to  express  the  fact  that  an  object  arouses 


Moods. 


Passions. 


228 


Thmking,   Feelings   Doing. 


Care. 
Melancholy. 


Gloom. 


Joy. 


no  interest  in  us  we  say  that  we  do  not  "  care  "  about  it. 
The  personal  opposite  of  care  is  melancholy.  The 
melancholiac  is  centered  in  himself ;  he  withdraws  from 
the  world  to  brood  in  solitude  over  his  own  pain.  Care 
and  melancholy  become  anxiety  and  dejection  when  they 

pass  from  emotions 
to  permanent 
moods.  Intermedi- 
ate between  these 
objective  and  per- 
sonal forms  of  sor- 
row stand  gloom  and 
depression.  We 
may  be  gloomy  as  to 
our  fate  in  the  world 
and  depressed  about 
a  loss  we  have  suf- 
fered, or  we  may  be 
gloomy  or  de- 
pressed without  any 
external  reason, 
simply  because  our 
mood  will  have  it  so. 
Joy,  like  sorrow,  assumes  different  forms  according  to 
the  direction  which  it  takes.  But  we  have  not  nearly  so 
many  words  to  express  joyous  emotion  as  we  have  to  ex- 
press sorrow.  A  joyous  mood  we  call  cheerfulness,  or, 
in  its  higher  stages,  hilarity.  But  we  cannot  tabulate 
the  joyous  emotions  as  objective  and  personal,  as  we 
could  their  opposites.  It  may  be  that  our  poverty  of 
words  points  to  a  distinction  in  the  facts  of  our  emotional 
life.  The  joyous  emotions  appear  to  be  more  uniform, 
less  variously  colored,  than  the  sorrowful. 


Fig.  174.     Sorrow. 


Emotion. 


229 


The  emotions  of  joy  and  sorrow,  whether  their  refer-   personal  char- 
ence  is   mainly  external  or  to  the  person  himself,   are  acter  of  joy  and 

J  i  '  sorrow. 

always  personal  in  character  ;  the  emotional  excitation 
of  our  own  minds  is  always  the  principal  thing.  A 
mood,  on  the  other  hand,  may  be  objectified  by  our 
putting  our  own  feelings  into  the  external  objects  which 
excite  them.  If  joy  and  sorrow  are  the  expressions  of 
an  internal  harmony  and  disharmony,  these  objective 
emotions  are  the  result  of  some  external  harmonious  or 
inharmonious  im- 
pression. Like  and 
dislike  are  the  most 
general  forms  of  ob- 
jective emotion  cor- 
responding to  joy 
and  sorrow  on  the 
personal  side.  They 
further  imply  a 
movement  to  or 
from  the  object  : 
what  we  like  attracts 
us  ;  what  we  dislike 
repels  us.  And  this 
movement  finds  its 
expression     in    the 

various  particular  forms  in  which  the  general  emotions 
occur. 

The  attraction  which  a  pleasing  object  has  for  us  all 
we  call  charm  ;  a  thing  is  ' '  charming ' '  which  both 
pleases  and  attracts  us.  The  opposite  of  charm  is  repul- 
sion, a  violent  dislike,  which  makes  us  turn  away  from 
an  object  in  displeasure.  Repulsion  becomes  aversion, 
and,  at  a  still  higher  stage,  anger,  when  it   is  turned 


Fig.  175.    Joy, 


Charm  and 
repulsion. 


230 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Indifference. 


Distinction  be- 
tween sen- 
sation and 
moods,  or 
emotions. 


directly  upon  the  repellent  object ;  it  becomes  chagrin 
and  mortification  if  the  unpleasant  mood  can  find  no 
outlet.  The  extreme  degree  of  anger  is  rage  ;  the  ex- 
treme of  mortification  is  exasperation.  The  opposite  of 
chagrin  is  contentment ;  when  pleasantly  concerned 
with  external  objects  it  becomes  de- 
light ;  when  quietly  occupied  with  its 
own  affairs,  happiness. 

The  two  opposite  processes  of 
charm  and  repulsion  find  a  meeting- 
point  in  indifierence.  Indifference 
has  a  tendency  in  the  direction  of  un- 
pleasantness ;  when  sense  or  thought 
is  sated  with  the  indifferent  or  per- 
haps originally  attractive  object,  it 
passes  over  at  once  into  repugnance. 
Repugnance  is  as  much  sensation  as 
emotion.  In  the  latter  shape  it  has  an  objective  form, 
antipathy,  and  a  personal  one,  discontentedness.  If  the 
emotion  becomes  a  permanent  mood,  we  have  weariness 
and  dissatisfaction. 

In  all  these  cases,  emotion  and  mood  are  at  once  dis- 
tinguishable from  sensation  by  their  connection  with  a 
train  of  strongly  emotional  ideas.  When  we  feel  joy  or 
sorrow,  our  mood  is  the  result  of  some  pleasant  or  pain- 
ful experience  which  may  be  resolved  into  a  number  of 
ideas.  If  we  are  mourning  the  death  of  a  friend,  our 
consciousness  is  filled  by  affectionate  memories,  more  or 
less  clear  or  distinct,  which  cooperate  to  produce  the 
emotion.  If  we  are  made  angry  by  some  insolent  re- 
mark, our  first  feeling  is  one  of  violent  displeasure  ;  then 
our  mind  is  flooded  by  a  torrent  of  ideas  connected  with 
ourselves,  the  personality  of  our  assailant,  and  the  more 


Fig.  176.    Anger. 


Emotion.  231 

immediate  circumstances  of  the  insult.  Most  of  them 
will  not  attain  to  any  degree  of  clearness,  but  all  are  held 
together  by  the  feeling  of  displeasure,  which  in  its  turn 
is  intensified  by  the  sensations  accompanying  our  ex- 
pressive movements. 

A  simple  sensation  which  has  no  special  relation  to  influence  of 
our  past  mental  history  will,  therefore,  hardly  be  able  to 
excite  an  emotion,  though  it  may  call  up  quite  intensive 
sensations.  Where  an  emotion  appears  we  may  assume 
the  presence  of  memory-ideas,  of  experiences  in  which 
a  similar  sensation  was  somehow  concerned.  The  full 
and  harmonious  tone  of  a  peal  of  bells  sounds  holiday- 
like to  us,  because  we  have  been  accustomed  from  child- 
hood to  interpret  the  chimes  as  harbingers  of  holidays 
and  religious  festivals  ;  the  blare  of  the  trumpet  reminds 
us  of  war  and  arms  ;  the  blast  of  the  horn  brings  up  the 
greenwood  and  the  tumult  of  the  chase  ;  the  chirping  of 
the  birds  tells  us  that  spring  has  come  ;  the  chords  of  the 
organ  suggest  a  congregation  assembled  for  devotion. 

It  is  probably  memory  again  which  determines  the  Example  from 
way  we  feel  in  regard  to  color  impressions,  although  in 
their  case  the  ideas  aroused  are  not  so  clear  or  distinct. 
Why  is  white  the  color  of  innocence  and  festivity,  black 
the  color  of  mourning  and  severity  ?  Why  do  we  choose 
blood-red  to  express  energy  and  spirit,  or  purple  to  ex- 
press dignity  and  solemnity  ?  Why  do  we  call  green 
the  color  of  hope  ?  It  would  be  difficult  to  trace  the 
mood  to  its  original  source  in  each  particular  case.  In 
many  cases  it  probably  arises  from  an  obscure  association 
of  the  color  with  the  occasions  when  custom  prescribes 
its  use.  Purple  has  been  the  royal  color  since  time  be- 
gan ;  and  black  is  almost  everywhere  among  the  west- 
ern nations  the  color  of  the  mourner's  garments. 


232 


Thinking,   Feelifig,   Doi7ig. 


Original  con- 
nection not  ex- 
plained by 
association. 


Emotions  of 
the  future. 


Expectation. 


Satisfaction  and 
disappoint- 
ment. 


It  is  true  that  this  association  does  not  fully  explain 
the  connection  between  the  sensations  and  the  mood 
which  it  arouses.  There  must  be  some  original  reason 
for  the  choice  of  one  particular  color,  and  no  other,  as 
the  expression  of  a  state  of  feeling.  It  is  perhaps  justifi- 
able to  look  for  this  reason  in  the  relationship  between 
the  sensation  and  the  emotional  character  of  particular 
colors. 

Emotions  exhibit  peculiar  modifications  when  their 
character  is  not  determined,  as  in  the  cases  hitherto  con- 
sidered, by  impressions  and  ideas  belonging  to  the  pres- 
ent and  considered  as  present,  but  by  ideas  which  refer  to 
the  future. 

The  most  general  of  these  emotions  of  the  future 
is  expectation.  In  it  we  outrun  in  impressions  of 
the  present  and  anticipate  those  which  the  future  will 
bring.  We  look  forward  to  its  realization  ;  and  if  this 
realization  is  postponed,  it  becomes  what  we  call  strained 
expectation  ;  the  bodily  feeling  of  strain  accompanies  the 
emotion.  In  expectation  the  muscles  are  tense,  like 
those  of  a  runner  awaiting  the  signal  for  the  race,  al- 
though very  possibly  the  expected  impression  demands 
no  motor  response  whatsoever.  Expectation  becomes 
watching  if  the  expected  event  may  happen  at  any 
moment,  and  our  sensory  attention  is  wide  awake  to  pre- 
vent its  passing  unnoticed.  The  tension  is  relaxed  with 
the  appearance  of  the  expected  impression.  If  the 
occurring  event  fulfils  our  expectation,  we  have  the 
emotion  of  satisfaction  ;  if  not,  that  of  disappointment. 
Satisfaction  and  disappointment  constitute  sudden  re- 
laxations of  expectant  attention.  If  expectation  is  pro- 
longed, its  tension  will  gradually  disappear  of  itself,  for 
every  emotion  weakens  with  time. 


E^notion.  233 

The  opposite  of  disappointment  is  surprise.  Surprise  surprise. 
is  the  result  of  an  unexpected  event.  In  it  we  have 
ideas  suddenly  aroused  by  external  impressions,  and  in- 
terrupting the  current  train  of  thought  in  a  way  which 
we  did  not  anticipate,  and  which,  at  the  same  time, 
strongly  attracts  our  attention.  Surprise  may  be  in 
quality  pleasurable,  painful,  or  altogether  indifferent.  A 
special  form  of  it  is  astonishment.  Here  the  e\'ent  is 
not  only  unexpected  at  the  moment,  but  unintelligible 
for  some  time  afterwards.  Astonishment  is,  therefore,  a 
kind  of  continued  surprise.  If  it  passes  into  a  still  more 
permanent  mood,  it  becomes  wonder. 

The  feeling  of  rhythm,  which  is  the  single  psycholog-  Feeiino-of 
ical  motive  in  dancing  and  ranks  with  harmony  and  dis-  ''^^>'^^™- 
harmony  as  a  psychological  motive  in  musical  compo- 
sition, contains  the  elements  both  of  expectation  and 
satisfaction.  The  regular  repetition  in  rhythmical  sen- 
sations makes  us  expect  every  succeeding  stimulation, 
and  the  expectation  is  immediately  followed  by  satisfac- 
tion. Rhythm  therefore  never  involves  strain,  or,  if  it 
does,  it  is  simply  bad  rhythm.  In  pleasant  rhythms 
satisfaction  follows  expectation  as  quickly  as  possible. 
Every  impression  arouses  the  expectation  of  another, 
and  at  the  same  time  satisfies  the  expectation  aroused  by 
its  predecessor,  whose  relations  of  time  it  reproduces. 
Rhythm  is  an  emotion  compounded  of  the  emotions  of 
expectation  and  satisfaction.  A  broken  rhythm  is 
emotionally  identical  with  disappointment. 

Hope  and  fear  may  be  regarded  as  special  forms  of 
expectation.  Expectation  is  indefinite.  It  may  refer  to 
an  event  desirable  or  undesirable,  or  perhaps  relatively 
indifterent.  Hope  and  fear  decide  expectation  ;  hope 
is  the  expectation  of  a   desirable  result,    fear   the    ex- 


Hope  and  fear. 


234 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


Alarm  and 
fright. 


Intellectual 
emotion. 


pectation  of  something  undesirable.  It  is  hardly  cor- 
rect to  call  hope  a  future  joy,  or  fear  a  future  sorrow. 
The  feelings  can  as  little  penetrate  into  the  future  as  the 
senses.  Hope  and  fear  are  the  expectation  of  future  joy 
and  future  sorrow,  but  not  joy  and  sorrow  themselves. 
Either  of  them  may  be  realized,  just  as  expectation 
may  lead  to  satisfaction  or  disappointment. 

Fear  of  some  immediate  disagreeableness  is  called 
alarm.     Fright  bears  the  same  relation  to  alarm  as  does 

expectation  to  surprise. 
Fright  is  the  surprise  oc- 
casioned by  some  sudden, 
terrifying  occurrence.  It 
becomes  consternation 
when  the  occurrence 
physically  paralyzes  the 
individual  experiencing  it; 
and  it  is  called  terror 
when  he  stands  amazed 
before  the  event.  Con- 
Fig.  177.  Fright.  sternation  is,  therefore, 
the  more  subjective  side  of  fright,  and  terror  its  objective 
side.  If  fear  is  continued,  it  becomes  uneasiness.  The 
uneasy  mind  is  always  afraid  ;  every  occurrence  alarms 
it.  In  other  words,  the  emotion  has  become  permanent, 
but  at  the  same  time  somewhat  less  intensive. 

The  emotions  both  of  the  present  and  future  assume 
the  most  varied  forms,  according  as  the  idea  changes. 
Especially  important  are  those  attaching  to  certain  in- 
tellectual processes  and  originating  in  the  peculiar  feel- 
ings which  accompany  them.  We  can  distinguish  four 
kinds  of  intellectual  feelings  :  the  logical,  ethical,  re- 
ligious,   and    aesthetic.     Attaching   themselves   to  very 


1  li- 
the 


EmotioJi.  235 

complicated  connections  of  ideas,  they  almost  invariably- 
pass  over  into  emotions,  and  in  that  form  exert  upon  our 
mental  life  an  influence  which  far  exceeds  that  of  any- 
other  state  of  feeling.  Their  analysis  belongs,  of  course.  Logical 
to  the  special  sciences  from  which  they  have  their  name. 
We  will  devote  a  few  words  to  the  logical  emotions  ; 
first,  because  they  are  often  overlooked  altogether,  and, 
secondly,  because  their  relationship  to  the  emotions  of 
the  future  enables  us  to  use  them  as  illustrations  of  the 
passage  of  emotion  in  general  into  the  particular  forms 
of  intellectual  emotion.  Logical  emotions  are  those 
connected  with  our  current  of  ordinary  thought. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  rapidity  of  the  course  of  Emotional 
thought  exerts  a  considerable  influence  upon  our  general  Japfdity^of 
emotional  condition.  It  is  not  indifferent  to  us  whether  ^'^^"s'^^- 
our  ideas  succeed  one  another  at  their  normal  rate,  or 
proceed  slowly  with  many  restraints  and  interruptions, 
or  pour  in  upon  us  in  perplexing  confusion.  Each  of 
these  cases  may  be  realized,  whether  from  internal  or 
external  causes.  Our  state  of  mind  at  the  moment,  the 
topic  of  our  current  thought,  and  external  sensations 
may   all  be  of  determining-  influence.      The  traveler  in   External  causes 

■'  ^  ^  _  of  change  in 

a  new  country  is  well  content  when  his  carriage  takes  rapidity, 
him  quickly  from  one  impression  to  another,  not  so 
quickly  that  he  cannot  assimilate  what  he  sees,  but  not 
so  slowly  that  he  is  always  wishing  himself  farther  on 
amid  new  scenes.  He  is  not  so  satisfied  if  he  is  lum- 
bering along  in  a  heavy  wagon,  passing  for  days 
through  the  same  scenery,  when  he  longs  to  be  at  his 
journey's  end,  or  is  curiously  anticipating  novel  exper- 
iences. Nor  is  he  quite  happy  when  the  railway  takes 
him  swift  as  an  arrow  through  a  country  rich  in  histor- 
ical associations,  and  he  tries  in  vain  with  deafened  ears 


Internal  causes. 


236  Thinking,   Feeli7ig,   Doing, 

and  tired  eyes  to  fix  some  of  its  features  in  his  memory. 
This  general  result  can  be  produced  by  internal  causes 
just  as  well  as  by  the  variation  of  external  impressions. 
If  you  have  to  solve  a  mathematical  problem  in  a  short 
time,  your  thoughts  trip  each  other  up  ;  you  are  in  a 
hurry  to  get  on,   but  are  obliged  to  go  back,  because 
you  have  been  following  out  a  second  thought  before 
you  had  finished  the  first.      And  it  is  not  less  disagree- 
able to  be  stopped  in  the  middle  of  your  task  because 
your   thought   halts,   and  you  cannot  answer  the  next 
question.      On  the  other  hand,  work  becomes  a  recre- 
ation  when    one   result   leads    certainly   and    easily   to 
another. 
Three  emotions       ^^  have,  therefore,  the  three  emotions  of  confused, 
of  thought.         restrained,  and  unimpeded  thought.      The  last  two  are 
closely   related   to  the  emotions  of  effort  and  facility. 
Correlated   with  these  are   the  sensations    attached    to 
ease  and  difiiculty  in  muscular  action.     They  are  gener- 
Effort  and  facii-  ^^    present    to    somc    degree    in    the    corresponding 
^'^^-  emotions,   even  when   the  causes  of  these  are  wholly 

mental.     The  feeling  of  effort  is  a  weight  which  presses 
upon  the  emotional  condition  ;  and  its  removal  is  ac- 
companied by  a  sudden  feeling  of  pleasure.     This  char- 
acteristic feeling  of  relief  affects  us  mainly  by   way  of 
contrast  to  our  previous  mood. 

Special  forms  of  the  emotions  of  unimpeded  and  re- 
Enjoyment  and  •111  • 
tedium.              stramed  thought  are  those  of  enjoyment  and  tedium.* 

In  enjoyment  our  time  is  so  well  filled  by  external  or  in- 
ternal inducements  to  activity  of  ideas  that  we  hardly  no- 
tice its  passage,  if  we  do  at  all.  The  nature  of  tedium  is 
indicated  by  its  name.  Our  time  is  unoccupied  and 
passes  slowly  because  we  have  nothing  else  to  think  of. 

*  This  is  the  dignified  word  for  "  boredness." 


Emotion. 


237 


Tedium,  therefore,  has  a  certain  affinity  to  expectation, 
but  it  is  an  expectation  that  has  remained  indefinite.  It 
does  not  expect  or  anticipate  any  particular  occurrence, 
but  simply  waits  for  new  events.  A  long  continued  ex- 
pectation always  passes  into  tedium,  and  an  intensive 
tedium  is  hardly  distinguishable  from  strained  ex- 
pectation. 

Related  to  the  feelings  of  effort  and  facility  are  those  Failure  and; 
of  failure  and  success.      Investigation  and  discovery  are 
attended  by  feelings  which  show  a  close  resemblance  to 
those    of   effort    and 
facility.     The  feelings 
of  agreement   and 
contradiction    are 
somewhat     different, 
They  originate  in  the 
comparison  of  simul- 
taneous ideas,  whicli 
in   the   one  case  are 
accordant,  and  in  the 
other  refuse  to  be  con- 
nected. 

Doubt,  which  we 
can  consider  as  an 
oscillatory  feeling,  is 
not  the  same  as  con- 
tradiction. The 
doubter  cannot  decide 

which  of  two  alterna-  ^''^-  ^''^-    ^'^^'  doubtful. 

lives  is  the  correct  one  ;  he  is  in  contradiction  with  him- 
self The  conflicting  ideas  are  nothing  real,  but  simply 
products  of  his  own  thought,  so  that  there  is  always 
the  possibility  that  the  contradiction  in  doubt  may  be 


Doubt. 


238  Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 

resolved  by  experience  or  more  mature  considera- 
tion ;'  and  so  far  doubt  is  related  to  the  emotions  of 
the  future.  This  relationship  becomes  still  more  ap- 
parent in  a  special  form  of  doubt — the  feeling  of  inde- 
cision. When  we  are  undecided  we  are  in  contradiction 
with  ourselves  as  to  which  of  different  roads  we  shall 
follow,  or  which  of  different  actions  we  shall  choose. 
Indecision  is  therefore  a  doubt  implying  reference  to 
action  and  resolved  by  it. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


MEMORY. 


If  I  were  writing  a  dictionary  I  would  define  memory 
as  that  portion  of  mental  life  about  which  everybody  has 
been  talking  for  three  thousand  years  without  telling  us 
anything  more  than  anybody  of  common  sense  knows 
beforehand. 

By  memory  we  mean  the  relation  between  two  ideas  ^hat  is 
occurring  at  different  times,  whereby  the  second  is  in-  ™e'^°''y' 
tended  to  be  like  the  first.  In  some  schools  of  design 
the  model  is  shown  for  a  short  time,  whereupon  the  pupils 
are  required  to  draw  from  memory.  The  original  im- 
pression, sometimes  called  the  sense-perception,  was 
that  of  the  model  ;  the  memory-picture  is  the  mental 
picture  from  which  the  drawing  is  made.  The  relation 
between  the  two  pictures  is  what  we  call  memory. 

There  are  numberless  entertaining  stories  concerning 
great  and  peculiar  memories,  but  it  is  much  to  be 
doubted  if  anything  of  any  value  is  gained  by  repeating 
them.  Instead  of  following  the  beaten  path  it  will  be 
better  to  enter  at  once  into  the  experimental  work  on 
the  subject.      Facts  first,  theories  afterwards. 

Memory  can  be  investigated  in  two  ways:  by  measur-   Methods  of 
ing  the  difference  of  the  repeated  idea  from  the  original,    investigation, 
or  by  counting  the  number  of  successfully  repeated  ideas 
out  of  the  total  number. 

Memory  for  actions  is  a  good  subject  to  begin  with. 

239 


240 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


Memory  for 
movement. 


Experiment. 


Computing  the 
results. 


Average 
change. 


How  accurately  does  the  arm  remember  a  straight 
movement?  With  the  eyes  closed  draw  on  the  first 
sheet  of  a  pad  of  paper  a  vertical  line  of  any  agreeable 
length.  Without  opening  the  eyes  tear  off  this  sheet; 
it  is  very  convenient  to  have  the  pad  fixed  firmly  to  the 
table.  After  waiting  five  seconds  (if  you  have  no  tick- 
ing clock  at  hand,  some  one  can  tell  you  the  time),  with 
the  eyes  still  closed  draw  a  second  line  which  you  judge 
equal  to  the  first.  Tear  off  the  sheet  as  before.  After 
waiting  five  seconds  again,  draw  a  third  line  of  the  same 
length  as  the  second  (you  need  not  attempt  to  recall  the 
first).  Continue  in  this  way  till  eleven  lines  have  been 
drawn  from  memory. 

With  a  millimeter-scale  (or  a  ruler  divided  into  sixty- 
fourths  of  an  inch)  measure  each  line.  The  difference 
between  each  line  and  its  predecessor  gives  the  amount 
of  error  in  remembering  after  the  particular  five  seconds. 
Thus,  with  a  line  about  100  millimeters  long,  we  might 
get  a  series  of  errors  of  —  2,  —  i,  4-  i,  —  i,  4-2,  —  i, 
—  3,  —2,  —3,  —I,  where  +  indicates  that  the  second 
line  was  too  long  and  —  that  it  was  too  short. 

In  memory  there  are  two  changes  that  go  on :  first, 
an  actual  change  in  the  idea  remembered  ;  and,  second, 
an  increasing  uncertainty. 

If  we  average  up  all  the  errors,  taking  into  account 
the  signs,  we  shall  get  the  average  change.  Thus,  the 
average  of  the  set  we  have  just  noticed  is 

—  2—  I   -fl—  1+2—  I— 3— 2— 3—  I        _ii 


10 


10 


or  —  I.I 


This  is  the  average  change  introduced  by  the  lapse  of 
five  seconds. 

What  is  the  uncertainty  of  our  judgment  ?     This  we 


Memory. 


241 


find  by  averaging  all  the  separate  errors  without  regard   Average 

,1  uncertainty. 

to  Sign  ;  thus 

2  +  I+I+I4-2  +  I+3+2+3  +  I 17 

10  ~  10 

=  I  tV  or  1 . 7  "^'". 

We  would  thus  say  that  the  average  uncertainty  intro- 
duced by  a  lapse  of  five  seconds  is  1.7"^"^, 

By  repeating  the  experiments  with  an  interval  of  ten   ^^  ^n^^rv 
seconds,  we  find  the  average  memory-change  and  the  [nfer!S^^^ 
average  uncertainty  due  to  that  interval.      Likewise  we 
can  use  intervals  of  fifteen  seconds,  thirty  seconds,  one 
minute,  five  minutes,  etc. 

Simple  as  such  experiments  on  memory  are,  there  Fundamental 
seem  to  have  been  only  two  sets  of  them,  neither  of  ^^^' 
them  of  any  definite  value.  As  the  matter  is  of  funda- 
mental importance  in  the  study  of  memory  I  have  had  a 
set  of  them  made  especially  for  my  readers.  From  the  re- 
sults the  fundamental  law  of  memory  can  be  deduced  as 
follows  :  The  average  change  is  an  individual  matter  de- 
pending 


on  circum- 
stances, but  the  aver- 
age uncertainty  in- 
creases in  a  definite 
relation  to  the  time. 

In  learning  to  write* 
by  means  of  a   copy- 
book the  eye  gets  the 

mental  image  and  then,      ^'^'  '79-     a  Leaf  from  Daisy's  Copy-book. 

looking  down,  guides  the  pen.  As  the  distance  from 
the  copy  to  the  line  grows  larger,  the  eye  has  time  to 
partially  forget  the  exact  form  of  the  lines  in  the  copy 
(Fig.  179). 

The  memory  for  the  force  of  action  can  be  investigated 


242 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Memory  for 
power. 


Cross-memory. 


Symmetrical 
memory. 


with  the  dynamometer,  described  on  page  79.  The  pull 
is  executed  to  any  agreeable  weight,  say  ten  ounces. 
After  five  seconds  it  is  repeated  to  apparently  the  same 
weight.  The  amount  of  the  error  is  recorded  by  some 
other  person.  Again  after  five  seconds  the  pull  is  re- 
peated, and  so  on.  The  average  change  and  the  aver- 
age uncertainty  are  calculated  as  before. 

Then  ten  seconds,  fifteen  seconds,  and  so  on,  are  used 
as  intervals.  We  finally  obtain  the  law  of  memory  for 
force.  Here,  also,  there  have  been  no  facts  to  proceed 
upon.  The  results  of  an  investigation  lately  made  show 
a  rapid  increase  both  of  the  average  change  and  the 
average  uncertainty. 

The  very  curious  fact  of  cross-education  has  been  no- 
ticed on  pages  75,  83,  and  112  ;  there  is  also  a  "  cross- 
memory." 

If  the  original  line  in  the  experiments  on  page  240  be 
drawn  with,  say,  the  left  hand,  it  can   be  remembered 

with  the  right  hand. 
If  the  original  pull 
on  the  dynamom- 
eter  be  made  with 


L 


R 


j> 


/Wm^v^^rif^ 


one  hand,  it  can  be 
remembered  with 
the  other. 

A  most  curious 
fact  about  this  cross- 
memory  is  that  the 

Fig.  180.  Symmetrical  and  Direct  Cross-  memory  for  move- 
ments is  symmet- 
rical and  not  identical.  We  learn  to  write  with  the 
right  hand  ;  when  we  attempt  to  write  with  the  left  we 
succeed  fairly  well  by  writing  outward  (z.  e.,  backward), 


J) 


OJYfuA  /Uxyvzey 


Symmetrical  and  Direct  Cross- 
memory. 


Metnory.  243 

just  as  the  right  hand  wrote  outward,  but  we  cannot  write 
as  well  in  the  regular  direction.  Here  are  two  speci- 
mens (Fig.  180).  By  looking  at  the  words  with  a  mir- 
ror it  will  be  seen  that  with  the  left  hand  those  written 
outward  are  better  than  those  written  inward. 

Some  experiments,  not  extended  far  enough  to  enable   Lawofcross- 

1        ,  .  .        .  .  memory. 

me  to  put  the  law  m  a  quantitative  statement,  seem  to  in- 
dicate its  general  forms  as  follows  :  The  average  change 
produced  by  cross-memory  is  composed  of  two  parts, 
that  due  to  the  crossing  and  that  due  to  the  interval  of 
time  ;  the  average  uncertainty  is  always  much  greater 
than  in  memory  without  crossing  and  increases  much 
more  rapidly. 

The  method  used  in  these  experiments  was  the  same  as  Method  of 
that  used  on  page  240.    The  original  line  was  drawn  with  ^^p^"™^"*- 
one  hand,  and  was  repeated  with  the  other,  alternately 
symmetrical  and  direct.     In  the  particular  set  of  experi- 
ments   referred   to   the  results    were   as   follows  :    The 
remembered  line  was,  on  an  average,  sixteen  per  cent 


shorter  in  the  sym- 
metrical movement 
and  twenty-four  per 


L 


cent  shorter  in  the    — L 

direct    movement.       Fig.  iSi.    Measurements  on  Symmetrical  and 
rr^i  Direct  Cross-memor\-. 

Ihe  average  uncer- 
tainty was  nine  per  cent  in    the  symmetrical  and  nine 
per  cent  in  the  direct. 

These  results  can  be  indicated  as  in  Fig.  181.  The 
top  line  is  the  standard,  drawn  by  the  right  hand  in  the 
direction  of  the  arrow.  The  two  other  lines  are  averages 
of  those  by  the  left  hand  ;  the  portions  in  dashes  indicate 
the  regions  within  which  these  lines  ended.  The  irregu- 
larity is  the  same  for  both,  but  although  both  movements 


244 


Thinkings    Feeling,   Doing. 


Memory  for 
tones. 


Results. 


differ  from  the  standard,  the  unsymmetrical  one  is  the 
less  correct  of  the  two. 

Memory  for  tones  can  be  measured  in  a  similar  way  tO' 
that  employed  on  pages  139,  140,  in  determining  the  least 
noticeable  difference.  In  fact,  all  the  experiments  on 
the  least  noticeable  difference  might  be  considered  as 
experiments  on  memory  with  a  very  small  interval  of 
time  between  the  two  impressions  compared.  There 
we  used  an  interval  of  two  seconds  ;  by  changing  this 
interval  to  five  seconds,  ten  seconds,  etc.,  we  get  the 
record  of  the  size  of  the  least  noticeable  difference  as 
depending  on  the  lapse  of  time.  The  matter  is  so  sim- 
ple that  further  explanations  hardly  seem  necessary.  A 
beautiful  set  of  experiments  might  be  performed  with  the 
tone-tester,  described  on  page  141. 

The  method  of  percentages  of  correct  answers  may 

also  be  employed. 
The  experiments 
described  on  pages 
143,  144  are  to  be 
repeated  with  differ- 
ent intervals. 

The  results  of  an 
investigation  of  this 


3  5  i  no     as 
Fig.  182. 


Law  of  Forgetting  Tones. 


kind  are  shown  in 
Fig.  182.  Here  the  figures  on  the  horizontal  line  indi- 
cate the  number  of  seconds  that  elapsed  between  two 
tones  to  be  compared,  and  those  on  the  vertical  line  in- 
dicate the  percentages  of  right  answers. 

It  is  seen  that  the  maximum  certainty  is  reached  at 
two  seconds.  Thereafter  it  decreases.  At  an  interval  of 
sixty  seconds  the  uncertainty  is  so  great  that  the  answers 
are  nearly  half  right  and  half  wrong  ;  since  mere  chance 


Me^nory. 


245 


differences. 


Memory  is  no 
real  process. 


would  make  them  half  right,  the  uncertainty  is  almost 
complete. 

This  is  a  characteristic  case  for  many  unmusical  per-  individual 
sons.  Individuals  differ,  of  course.  There  are  intelli- 
gent persons  who  cannot  recognize  a  tone  repeated 
twice  in  close  succession.  On  the  other  hand,  we  find 
Mozart  and  later  piano-players  who  can  carry  in  mind 
the  slightest  differences.  Probably  the  most  accurate 
tone-memory  on  record  is  that  of  Mozart.  Two  days 
after  playing  on  a  friend's  "butter-fiddle  "  (as  he  called 
it  on  account  of  its  soft  tone),  the  seven-year-old  Mozart, 
while  playing  on  his  own  violin,  remarked  that  the  but- 
ter-fiddle was  tuned  to  half  of  a  quarter  of  a  tone  lower 
than  his  own.     And  this  was  found  to  be  the  case. 

We  might  make  similar  experiments  on  touch,  tem- 
perature, smell,  etc.  In  fact,  memory  is  no  real  process; 
it  is  merely  a  way  of  considering  and  comparing  two  im- 
pressions at  different  times.  This  is  what  we  did  with  a 
small  interval  on  many  occasions  in  the  earlier  chapters 
of  this  book.  When  the  interval  is  so  small  as  to  be 
negligible  we  speak  of  simultaneous  impressions. 

When  a  man  has  no  brains  to  invent  methods  of  exact 
measurement  he  falls  back  on  statistics;  and  these  very 
same  negative  brains  assist  him  in  making  his  statistics 
worthless.  It  is  the  fashion  to  collect  statistics  on  mem- 
ory, but  only  two  really  scientific  investigations  of  this 
sort  have  ever  been  made. 

Numerous  sets  of  calculations  of  the  number  of  letters 
or  words  forgotten  out  of  the  total  number  seen,  heard, 
spoken,  etc. ,  have  been  undertaken.  Letters  and  words 
are  very  complicated  affairs,  and  the  results  will  vary 
completely  by  a  slight  change  in  the  word,  in  the  ar- 
rangement, in  the  time,  in  the  loudness  or  illumination, 


Statistics  on 
memory. 


Great  sources 
of  error. 


246 


Thinkings   Feelmg^   Doiyig, 


Law  for  mem- 
orv  of  syllables. 


Concrete  cases. 


in  the  intonation  or  the  size,  etc. ,  etc.  The  sources  of 
error  are  so  great  that  a  scientist,  /.  e. ,  a  careful  worker, 
must  spend  years  of  labor  in  getting  them  under  control. 

The  first  carefully  executed  experiments  in  this  line 
show  that  when  a  set  of  meaningless  syllables  has  once 
been  learned,  the  time  required  for  learning  them  on  a 
second  occasion  increases  as  the  interval  between  the  two 
occasions,  according  to  a  definite  law. 

This  law  runs  in  the  way  shown  in  a  specimen  table  of 
results : 

Interval      .     .     0.3     i     S.8     24     48     144     744  hours 
Per  cent  of 


work  re- 
quired for 
relearning 


>       42     56     67     66     72        75        79 


At  first  there  is  a  rapid  loss,  more  than  half  during  the 
first  hour  ;  then  the  loss  is  steadily  less  rapid  and  finally 
becomes  almost  steady.  Between  the  second  day  and 
the  thirty-first  day  there  is  almost  no  change. 

Further  experiments  with  letters  under  various  condi- 
tions of  rate,  repetition,  lapse  of  time,  rhythm,  etc., 
have  been  in  progress  for  many  years,  but  the  final  re- 
sults have  not  been  reached. 

Statistical  experiments  require  an  immense  amount  of 
labor,  and  seldom  lead  to  satisfactory  results  when  em- 
ployed to  determine  fundamental  laws  of  mental  life. 
The  case  is  quite  different  when  the  question  to  be 
answered  applies  to  a  single  concrete  case.  The  ques- 
tion of  how  much  the  boys  of  a  class  have  remembered 
from  the  last  lesson,  twenty-four  hours  ago,  can  be 
answered  with  more  or  less  accuracy  by  an  examination. 
The  determination  of  a  general  law  of  memory  in  such 
a  maimer  that  knowledge  of  certain   circumstances  en- 


Memory.  247 

ables  the  prediction  of  how  much  will  be  remembered  at 
any  future  time  is  another  matter  altogether. 

The  education  of  the  memory  powers  has  ever  been  a  Prodigies  of 
subject  of  interest  to  practical  people.  More  or  less 
fabulous  accounts  of  the  prodigies  of  memory  may  be 
found  in  \-arious  psychological  story-books.  Even  when 
the  records  of  the  results  obtained  are  to  be  credited, 
the  accounts  of  how  the  freaks  educated  their  memories 
are  mostly  to  be  regarded  as  unconscious  fiction.  For 
practical  purposes  statements  on  the  development  of 
memory  should  be  founded  on  observation  of  and  ex- 
periment on  ordinary  people. 

The  fundamental  laws  for  the  cultivation  of  memory  Fundamental 
are  :  intensifying  the  image  by  attention,  and  keeping   ed^caSng 
it  ready  by  conscious  repetition.  memor>. 

In  the  first  place,  intensify  the  impression.  See,  hear, 
do  what  you  wish  to  remember.  You  cannot  expect  to 
remember  a  picture  when  you  have  not  really  seen  it. 
It  is  said  that  the  Niirnbergers  never  hang  a  man  till 
they  have  caught  him,  and  yet  many  a  teacher  expects 
his  pupils  to  remember  a  lesson  without  really  learning  it. 

How  shall  we  intensify  the  impression  ?  Any  method  Methods  of  in- 
that  increases  the  amount  of  attention  will  help  to  in-  im"pJession.^^ 
tensify  the  impression  ;  these  methods  have  been  con- 
sidered in  Chapter  VII.  But  it  is  not  sufficient  merely 
to  pay  attention  ;  something  further  must  be  done  if  the 
impression  is  to  be  retained.  No  experimental  work  in 
the  laboratory  has  been  done  on  this  problem,  but  some 
of  the  most  acute  experimenting  has  been  carried  on  by 
advertisers  on  account  of  the  business  interests  involved. 
The  very  principles  they  have  discovered  are  just  the 
ones  we  should  make  use  of  on  ourselves  and  in  teaching 
others.      I  believe  that  these  principles  have  never  been 


248 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


First  principle. 


Second 
principle. 


formulated  and  that  advertisers  follow  them  unconsciously 
— we  can  walk  successfully  although  we  may  know  noth- 
ing about  the  action  of  the  muscles  of  the  leg. 

A  powerful  principle  employed  for  memorizing  a  fact 
is  that  of  the  ridiculous.  You  cannot  forget  the  absurd 
pictures  by  means  of  which  publishers  and  players  ad- 
vertise their  new  wares  ;  or  Paderewski's  hair,  whose 
echoes  lasted  longer  than  those  of  his  playing ;  or  the 
tramp  army,  whereby  ' '  General ' '  Coxey  hopes  to  live 
in  history. 

A  subordinate  principle  belonging  to  the  ridiculous  is 


THROUGH 


that  of  the  pun.  A 
goodpun  is  an 
aesthetically  ridicu- 
lous contradiction  ; 
a  bad  one  is  in- 
tensely irritating  but 
is  ridiculous  ridicu- 
lousness.    I  f  y  o  u 

You  Can  Get  **A  Hold"  wish  your  class  to 
On  The  People  T.^^'i  '^'  'T 

01  Waterloo,   make 

Fig.  183.    Use  of  the  Pun  for  Memory  Purposes.  1         ^    'a.  j 

^  a  pun  about  it,  and 

a  bad  one,  too.      (You  all  know  the  horrid  one  to  which 
I  refer. ) 

A  second  principle  of  memorizing  is  that  of  rhyme. 
We  all  know  how  much  easier  it  is  to  learn  rhymed 
poetry  than  blank  verse  or  prose.  Rhymed  couplets  or 
verses  can  frequently  be  employed  to  memorize  difficult 
facts.  The  farmer's  calendars  in  olden  times  were  based 
on  the  memorial  days  of  the  saints.  To  remember  when 
the  sowing,  reaping,  etc. ,  should  be  done,  an  appropri- 
ate couplet  was  rhymed  with  the  day.     The  same  method 


Memory.  249 

is  employed  In  some  aids  to  learning  history.  Those 
who  have  studied  formal  logic  will  remember  the  medie- 
val memory-verse  beginning,  "Barbara,  Celarent,"  etc. 
Students  of  medicine  are  required  to  know  the  names  Combination  of 
and  arrangement  of  the  bones  in  the  hand.  Being  a  principles, 
very  difficult  matter,  the  German  students  have  been  in- 
genious enough  to  make  a  translation  of  the  Latin  names 
into  an  absurd  stanza.  Over  six  years  ago  I  happened 
to  hear  this  a  couple  of  times  ;  to-day  the  lines  are  still 
in  memory  : 

"  Vieleckig  gross,  vieleckig  klein, 
Der  Kopf  muss  bei  dem  Haken  sein. 
Dann  schiffen  wir  beim  Mondenschein 
Dreieckig  iiber's  Erbsenbein." 

The   chief  words  when   translated  into  Latin   give  the 
names  required. 

This  principle  of  rhyme  when  combined  with  the 
ridiculous  can  be  carried  so  far  that  couplets  and  stanzas 
cannot  be  forgotten.  Those  who  have  read  Mark  Twain' s 
story  about  "Punch,  Brothers,"  etc.,  will  remember  a 
case.  Li  order  to  spare  a  very  disagreeable  experience 
to  those  who  have  not  been  haunted  by  this  stanza,  I 
will  not  repeat  it. 

The  principle  of  alliteration,  i.  e.,  of  words  beginning 
with  the  same  sound,  was  largely  used  in  olden  poetry. 
Memory  was  doubtless  greatly  assisted  thereby.  It  is  in 
use  to  a  certain  extent  to-day  in  book-titles,  catch-words,  '^^^'^^  pnncipie. 
advertisements,  etc.  Sometimes  it  is  used  unintention- 
ally. The  nation  will  never  forget  the  famous  phrase  of 
the  presidential  campaign  of  1884,  "Rum,  Romanism, 
and  Rebellion." 

Another  very  efficient  principle  is  that  of  puzzle.   Dis-   p^inJ-pie. 
sected  maps,  the  game  of  authors,  the  solution  of  mathe- 
matical conundrums,  are  cases. 


250 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Second  law. 


Emphasis  on 

"  conscious." 


Two  methods. 


To  retain  things  in  memory  they  should  generally  be 
repeated  a  number  of  times.  With  a  very  intense  first 
impression  the  repetition  may  be  unnecessary  ;  with  weak 
impressions  it  may  be  frequently  required.  The  relation 
of  intensity  to  repetition  has,  however,  never  been  ex- 
perimentally determined. 

The  fundamental  fact  to  be  observed  is  that  the 
repetition  must  be  conscious.  Nearly  everybody  sup- 
poses that  a  series  of  facts,  a  group  of  names,  a  collection 
of  dates,  can  be  learned  by  simple  mechanical  repetition. 
It  is  not  too  strong  to  say  that  ' '  learning  by  rote  "  is  an 
absolute  impossibility.  We  remember  the  connection 
between  two  words  when  we  pay  attention  to  the  fact  of 
such  connection.  For  example,  suppose  we  wish  to  re- 
member that  Aristotle  was  a  tutor  to  Alexander.  The 
fact  strikes  us  at  once  and  will  have  some  power  of  per- 
sistence in  our  memories.  Any  amount  of  mechanical 
repetition  of  ' '  Aristotle-tutor- Alexander  ' '  will  not  as- 
sist. But  let  each  repetition  be  a  conscious,  attentive 
connection  of  the  three  facts  ;  there  is  a  distinct  gain. 
The  difficulty  lies  in  making  the  repetition  conscious  and 
not  mechanical. 

The  methods  of  doing  this  may  be  described  as  volun- 
tary and  involuntary.  In  the  voluntary  method  the  in- 
dividual calls  up  each  time  by  an  effort  of  will  a  char- 
acteristic picture  of  Aristotle  teaching  Alexander.  The 
involuntary  method  consists  in  finding  some  word  natu- 
rally connected  with  Aristotle  which  by  another  natural 
connection  brings  up  another  word  and  so  on  till  "teach" 
is  reached,  after  which  the  same  process  stretches  from 
' '  teach  "  to  '  'Alexander. ' '  Teachers  of  memory-culture, 
like  Loisette,  have  made  a  special  application  by  the 
method  of  searching  for  a  series  of  connecting  associa- 


Memory. 


251 


tions  between  the  two  words  or  facts  to  be  remembered. 

The  objection  made  to  such  associative  systems  is  that   Lawofobiitera- 

,  .  ,  1   .  .  ,  tion  of  ii>ter- 

they  are  too  cumbersome  when  anythmg  is  to  be  re-  mediate  links, 
called.  While  practicing  with  one  of  these  systems  I 
noticed  the  tendency  of  the  middle  links  to  fall  out  ;  no 
matter  how  many  intermediate  words  were  inserted  be- 
tween "  Aristotle  "  and  "teach,"  after  awhile  the  two 
were  involuntarily  associated,  with  no  thought  of  the 
middle  links.  This  process,  which  is  in  harmony  with 
facts  previously  discovered  concerning  the  association  of 
ideas,  might  be  called  the  obliteration  of  intermediate 
associations. 

Like  all  our  mental  life,  memory  depends  upon  age.  Dependence  of 
In  a  series  of  exper- 
iments on  school 
children  a  tone  was 
sounded  for  two  sec- 
onds, then  it  was 
started  again  and  »/ 
the  child  was  re- 
quired to  stop  it 
when  it  had  lasted  as 
long  as  before.  In 
all  cases  the  second 
sound  was  made  too 
short ;  the  younger 
children  often  made 


memory  on  age. 


TIME  MEMORY. 


-BOYS.ANC.aiOS. 


BOYS. 

.CIRIS 

AROHMETlCALJIEAa 


the  sound  by  mem-    "^     ^     r     1     ?a    t     »    -n     n    t^    tt 

Ory  only  one   fourth     ^^- '^^-    Dependence  of  Time-memory  on  Age. 

of  its  true  length.      As  they  grew  older,  the  memory  be- 
came more  accurate. 

Concerning  the  ages  above  seventeen  no  experiments   Memory  and 
have  been  made.     We  know,  however,  that  old  people   *^^^  ^^^' 


252  Thi7iki7ig,   Feelings   Doing. 

gradually  lose  their  memories.  Indeed,  we  might  say 
that  memory  is  the  ostensible  friend  who  insists  upon 
presenting  us  with  a  house  bountifully  furnished  with  the 
skeletons  of  past  sins,  but  who  in  old  age  turns  us  out 
into  the  cold  night  of  forgetf alness  when  we  would  gladly 
remember  even  the  sins.  Memory  grows  to  its  prime 
and  then  never  gets  any  further  till  it  suddenly  becomes 
withered  and  past. 


Definition. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

RHYTHMIC    ACTION. 

What  is  rhythmic  action  ?  Such  a  hard  Greek  word 
as  "  rhythm  "  (alas  !  there  is  no  EngHshword)  must  mean 
something  very  dreadful.  Do  you  remember  M.  Jour- 
dain  in  Moliere's  "  Le  Bourgeois  Gentilhomme, "  who 
was  astounded  and  delighted  to  learn  that  he  had  been 
speaking  ' '  prose  ' '  all  his  life  ?  Well,  you  have  been  ex- 
ecuting rhythmic  actions  ever  since  you  began  to  walk. 

By  rhythmic  action  we  understand  an  act  repeated  at   Examples, 
intervals  which  the  doer  believes  to  be  regular.     Walk- 
ing is  in  simple  rhythm.     The  beating  of  a  drum  is  in- 
tended to  be  in  a  more  or  less  complicated  rhythm. 

Let  us  take  a  lesson  in  walking.     In  order  that  there 
may  be  no  dispute  on   the  subject  and   that  we  may 
have  a  permanent  record,  w^e  shall  try  to  arrange  matters 
so  that  every  step  is  recorded.     While  studying  action 
we  learned  the  principle  of  graphic 
recording  by  air  transmission  ;  all 
we  have  to  do  now  is  to  modify 
the  method  so  that  it  records  the 
movement  of  walking. 


The   person    experimented    on     Fig.  185.   The  Pneumatic 


puts  on  a  pair  of  shoes  with  hol- 
low rubber  soles  (Fig.  185)  which  act  as  receiving  cap 
sules.     Each  sole  communicates  by  a  long  tube  with  a  applied 
small  capsule  that  writes  on  a  small  smoked  drum  (Fig 

253 


Walking. 


Graphic  method 


254 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Results. 


Psychology  of 
walking. 


1 86)  carried  in  the  hand.  When  the  foot  is  on  the 
ground,  the  air  is  pressed  through  the  tube  to  the  re- 
cording capsule  ;  this  causes  it  to  make  a  mark  on  the 
drum. 

The  character  of  the  resuhs  is  indicated  in  Fig.  187. 
The  length  of  time  during  which 
the  foot  rests  on  the  ground  is  in- 
dicated by  the  length  of  the  mark 
on  the  drum.  In  walking,  one  foot 
leaves  the  ground  just  as  the  other 
touches  it  ;  in  going  upstairs,  both 
feet  touch  for  a  while  at  the  same 
time  ;  in  running,  both  feet  are  off 
the  ground  for  short  intervals. 

But  all  this  was  already  known 
in  sporting  circles  ?  Still,  you  must 
not  object  to  putting  a  competitor 
or  even  an  umpire  on  record.  In 
a  walking-match  a  man  is  ruled  out 
by  the  umpires  if  his  method  of 
progress  changes  from  i  to  3  (Fig.  187).  What  a  lot  of 
quarreling  would  be  saved  if  every  man  could  carry  on  his 
back  a  minute  instru- 
ment telling  his  walk 
in  black  and  white  ! 
The   interest  of  the 

physiologist  ends  ^i^-  }?'V  Graphic  Records  :  ,  i ,  Walking ; 
i-       J  o  2,  Going  upstairs;   3,  Running;   4,  Faster 

where  that  of  the  psy-      Running. 

chologist  begins.  The  physiologist  knows  that  we  walk 
with  our  feet  ;  the  psychologist  knows  that  we  walk  with 
our  minds  also.  We  will  to  walk  faster  or  slower,  this 
way  or  that  ;  how  does  the  execution  compare  with  the 
intention  ? 


Fig.    186.      Walking    with 

Pneumatic  Shoes  and 

Recording  Drum. 


Rhythmic  Action. 


255 


Marking  time. 


The  method  just  described  was  developed  for  phys- 
iological purposes  and  has  not  been  used  for  a  study  of 
the  psychology  of  walking,  although  that  could  be  done 
with  very  little  trouble. 

For  a  study  of  the  influence  of  the  mind  on  walking  I  Electric  shoe. 
have  devised  a  little  reaction-key  for  the  foot,  to  be  used 
with  the  spark  method.  This  key  is  shown  in  Fig.  188. 
It  is  attached  to  the  heel  of  the  shoe  ;  flexible  conduct- 
ing cords  lead  from  it  to  the  spark-coil.  The  spark-coil 
is  arranged  to  record  on  the 
drum  by  making  a  dot  on 
the  smoked  paper.  The 
rest  of  the  arrangement  de- 
pends on  the  particular  ques- 
tion to  be  studied. 

Mark  time  !    Left,  right, 
left,  right,  etc.     The  drum 
beats    rub-a-dub-dub   and 
Sergeant  Merritt  at  the  end 
of  the   line   brings   his  foot 
down   exactly  in   time  with 
the    strokes    of  the    drum. 
Yes,  exactly  in  time.      Ser- 
geant Merritt  is  not  an  ordinary  sergeant  ;   his  is   the 
crack  company  of  the  Seventh  Regiment.     The  whole 
world  knows  that  everything  is  exactly  right  in  that  reg- 
iment, and  nothing  short  of  a  stroke  of  lightning  would 
convince  the  sergeant  that  he  is  behind  time.      Let  us 
try  our  spark  method,  which  is  merely  lightning  on  a 
small  scale.       But  before  we  begin  an  experiment   we 
must    distrust    everything    and    everybody — even    the 
drummer.     The  drummer  himself  may  have  something 
the  matter  with  him — we  will  attend  to  that  later — but 


Fio-. 


Tlie  Electric  Shoe. 


256 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Preparations 
for  experiment. 


at  any  rate  we  must  use  some  arrangement  for  drum- 
ming which  we  have  proved  to  be  exact. 

The  drumming  we  shall  use  will  be  a  series  of  clicks  at 
exactly  equal  intervals.  To  produce  the  click  we  use  the 
graphic  chronometer.  This  is  essentially  a  stop-watch 
which  makes  the  fine  pointer  beat  either  in  seconds  or  in 
fifths  of  a  second.  This  pointer  writes  on  the  smoked 
drum.  At  the  same  time  it  breaks  an  electric  current 
and  makes  a  click  by  means  of  a  telegraph  sounder. 

A  foot-key  is  fastened  on  one  of  the  sergeant' s  heels 
and  the  wires  are  led  to  the  spark-coil,  just  as  in  the  case 
of  the  piano-player  (Fig.  6).  The  sergeant' s  case  is  not 
that  of  simple  reaction  to  sound  ;  he  knows,  from  memory 
of  time,  just  when  the  clicks  are  coming. 

The  record  on  the  drum  will  be  like  that  shown  in 


Regular  re- 
tarded action. 


Irregular  re- 
tarded action. 


1,    I,  I.    I.,  I.  I,    I    I    I    L 

Fig.  189.     Regular  Retarded  Rhythm. 

Fig.  189.  It  shows  a  line  drawn  by  the  chronometer 
point,  on  which,  at  regular  intervals  representing  seconds, 
there  are  side  lines  denoting  the  moments  of  the  clicks. 
The  dots  are  made  by  the  sparks  at  the  moment  the  heel 
touches  the  floor. 

The  sergeant  is,  alas  !  always  just  about  one  sixth  of  a 
second  behind  time.  He  is  very  regular  about  it,  too  ; 
for  he  is  a  rather  stoHd,  unexcitable  fellow  on  whom  you 
can  depend  for  ' '  getting  there, ' '  although  he  may  not 
be  so  lively  as  another. 

When  the  sergeant  saw  his  record,  it  worried  him  into 
making  an  effort  at  being  on  time.  His  second  record 
was  like  Fig.  190. 

Gained  he  had  not  ;  on   an  average  he  was  as  much 


Rhythmic  Action.  257 


behind  as  at  lirst.     But  his  nervousness  had  added  a 

worse  fauh,  that  of  irregularity. 

Next   to    the  sergeant  comes   Corporal  Alan  Adair,    Regular  accel- 
erated action. 

I.    1,1.    .1      I.      I.    I.     .1     .1      \ 

Fig.  190.    Irregular  Retarded  Rhythm. 

1      J      J       I      I,      J     .1     .1      j     .1 

Fig,  191.    Regular  Accelerated  Rhjrthm. 

eager  and  enthusiastic.  He  always  speaks  before  he 
thinks  ;  his  record  shows  that  in  his  ardor  he  gets  quite 
ahead  of  the  drum  (Fig.  191). 

We  have  also  in  our  company  a  Frenchman,  Antoine  i^eguiar 
Boulanger.    His  record  (Fig.  192)  proves  to  give  a  good  ^^*^°"- 
average,  but  it  is  very  irregular.     Antoine,  we  all  know, 
is  a  first-rate  fellow,  although  he  is  inclined  to  be  very 
nervous  and  excitable. 

All  the  persons  tested  show  records  that  can  be  classi- 

I.    .1    .1     I.    I.    1    J    .1     I.    I. 

Fig.  192.    Irregular  Accurate  Rhythm. 

L   1    1    J    1    1    1.    ]    J    { 

Fig.  193.     Regular  Accurate  Rhythm. 

fied  on  two  principles,  accuracy  and  regularity.   Accuracy 

is  the  nearness  of  the  general  average  to  the  series  of 

clicks.     Regularity  is  the  person's  agreement  with  him-   ra^f'iction.'^"' 

self     A  man  may  be  accurate  but  irregular,  like  Antoine, 

or    inaccurate    and   irregular,  like   the   sergeant  when 

ner\-ous,  or  inaccurate  but  regular,  like  Alan.     Finally, 

when  the  foot  comes  down  always  within  a  small  range 


258 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing* 


Computing  the 
results. 


Index  of  in- 
accuracy. 


Index  of  irreg- 
ularity. 


before  and  after  the  click,  so  that  it,  on  an  average,  hits 
the  cUck  (Fig.  193)  the  record  is  both  accurate  and 
regular.     This  is  the  ideal  of  rhythmic  action. 

Teachers  can  readily  pick  out  the  very  bad  cases  of 
inaccuracy  or  irregularity  among  a  class  of  marching 
boys.    Drill  sergeants  can  tell  tales  of  their  raw  recruits. 

The  distance  between  each  two  of  the  checks  in  the 
preceding  figures  means  an  interval  of  one  second. 
With  a  fine  measure,  or  even  by  the  eye  alone,  we  can 
divide  the  interval  into  ten  parts,  each  of  which  will  mean 
one  tenth  of  a  second.  Now,  note  down  how  many 
tenths  of  a  second  the  dot  is  distant  from  the  check  ;  if 
it  is  ahead  of  the  check,  put  +  in  front  of  it ;  if  behind, 
— .     The  record  in  Fig.  190,  for  example,  will  be 


3>  —  4.  ~  2,  +  I, 


3, 


I,  +  I,  +  2,  o. 


Take  the  average,  that  is,  add  them  all  up  and  divide  by 
ten.  This  gives  — i.o  tenths  of  a  second  as  the  average 
amount  by  which  the  foot  was  behind  time.  In  physics 
this  is  called  the  constant  error  ;  in  psychology — especi- 
ally in  educational  psychology — I  propose  to  call  it  the 
' '  index  of  inaccuracy. 

Now  let  us  find  the  ' '  index  of  irregularity, ' '  or,  as 
physicists  call  it,  the  variable  error.  Find  the  difference 
between  the  number  in  the  index  of  inaccuracy,  in  this 
case  I,  and  each  of  the  numbers,  3,  4,  2,  i,  etc.,  of  the 
original  records.  You  will  get  a  second  set  of  ten 
figures,  2,  3,  I,  o,  o,  2,  o,  o,  i,  i.  As  you  will  notice,  no 
attention  has  been  paid  to  +  and  — .  Average  these 
last  results  ;  answer,  it,  or  i.o,  of  a  tenth  of  a  second, 
which  is  the  index  of  irregularity.  By  chance  the  two 
indexes  have  the  same  figures. 

A  very  irregular  person  might  have  the  same  index  of 


Rhytlunic  Action. 


259 


accuracy  as  a  very  regular  one  ;  they  might  both  be  one 
tenth  behind  time  ;  but  their  indexes  of  irregularity  would 
be  different.  On  the  other  hand,  two  regular  persons 
will  have  small  indexes  of  irregu- 
larity, whereas  their  constant 
errors  would  be  quite  different. 

Now,  to  attend  to  the  drummer. 
Suppose  we  put  into  his  hand  an 
electric  drum-stick.  Every  time 
that  the  stick  strikes  the  drum  a 
spark  is  made.  Since  the  drum- 
mer has  no  watch  to  guide  him 
but  judges  his  time  as  he  pleases, 
we  do  not  use  any  sounder  but  let 
him  beat  alone.  A  record  can  be 
made  just  as  before  with  the 
chronometer,  and  the  regularity 
can  be  measured  in  tenths  of  a  second. 

The  index  of  irregularity  is  of  immense  importance  to 
the  orchestra  leader  ;  there  is  no  index  of  inaccuracy, 
because  he  sets  his  own  time.  It  does  not  make  much 
difference  just  how  fast  he  beats,  provided  he  beats 
i^egidarly.  To  measure  the  regularity  in  a  case  of  this 
kind  an  electric  contact  on  the  end  of  a  baton  can  be  ar- 
ranged by  which  a  spark  record  is  made  in  the  usual 
way  (Figs.  194,  195). 

The  time  between  each  record  can  be  measured  in 
hundredths  or  thousandths  of  a  second,  as  desired.  Sup- 
pose we  have  a  record  of  eleven  beats  measured  to  hun- 
dredths of  a  second  with  the  following  results  :  41,  42, 

37'  4i>  39'  4O'  40.  40>  4I'  38'  41-  The  average  time  of  a 
beat  is  just  40.  How  regular  is  the  beating  ?  This  is 
determined  by  finding  the  difference  between  each  sepa- 


Fig.  194.   The  Electric  Baton. 


Experiments  on 
the  drummer. 


The  orchestra 
leader. 


Example. 


26o 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Fig-  195.     Taking  an  Orchestra  Leader's  Record  with  the  Electric  Baton. 

rate  beat  and  the  average,  and  taking  the  average  of 
these  differences.     Thus  : 

The  index  of  irregu- 
larity is  i.i^'. 


41 

I 

42 

2 

37 

■^ 

0 

41 

I 

39 

I 

40 

0 

40 

0 

40 

0 

41 

I 

38 

2 

41 

I 

II  440 

11  12 

40 

I.I 

Rhythmic  Action.  261 


Now  let  us  take  ajiother  orchestra  leader  whose  record   An  irregular 
gives  40,  41,  42,  40,  39,  37,  35,  40,  41,  41,  38  ;    which 
is  the  better  man  ?     The  average  is  40  as  before,  but  the 
index  of  irregularity  is  i .  8  as  compared  with  i .  i . 

Suppose  we  have  a  third  leader  from  whom  we  get  the   a  regular 
ten  records  :  40,  39,  40,  40,  39,  38,  39,  39,  39,  39.     The 
average  is  39.2,  and  the  index  of  irregularity  is  less  than 
0.5. 

It  is  evident  that  the  second  leader  beats  so  irregularly 
that  an  orchestra  cannot  possibly  keep  time,  that  the 
first  leader  is  somewhat  better,  and  that  the  third  is  far 
superior  to  the  others.  The  actual  average  time  of  a  beat 
makes  no  difference  within  such  small  limits,  as  music 
played  at  the  rate  of  one  beat  in  0.40  seconds  is  not  sen- 
'  sibly  different  from  that  played  at  one  beat  in  o.  39  sec- 
onds. An  essential  qualification,  however,  for  the  suc- 
cess of  an  orchestra  leader  is  his  regularity  in  estimating 
intervals  of  time. 

Another  example  similar  to  the  one  just  mentioned  is  piano-piaying. 
that  of  a  piano-player,  who  must  learn  to  strike  the  notes 
at  regular  intervals.  The  quarter-notes  should  all  be 
about  the  same  length  ;  equal  measures  should  be  com- 
pleted in  equal  times.  For  most  beginners  the  irregu- 
larity in  the  time  given  to  successive  measures  varies  to 
such  an  extent  that  it  is  painful  to  hear  them  attempt  a 
tune.  By  practice  with  the  metronome  successful  play- 
ers are  able  to  reduce  their  irregularity  till  it  does  not 
disturb  the  playing.  It  is  not  known  just  how  far  this 
may  be  carried,  as  no  one  has  ever  taken  the  trouble  to 
make  measurements.  It  might  be  suggested,  however, 
that,  even  when  the  irregularity  is  so  small  that  no  one 
notices  it,  yet  it  may  be  great  enough  to  injure  the  ef- 
fect.     A  successful   musician   of  anv  kind  should  know 


262 


Thinking ,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Dumb-bell 
exercises. 


not  only  that  his  instrument  is  in  tune  but  also  that  he 
himself  is  in  time. 

The  rhythmical  exercises  with  dumb  bells  are  the  ex- 
pression of  an  instinctive  desire  of  the  gymnast  to  culti- 
vate his  accuracy  and  regularity  of  action.  To  make  the 
measurements  a  flexible  wire  is  inserted  into  the  handle 
of  each  of  a  pair  of  iron  dumb  bells  and  is  connected 
with  the  spark-coil  so  that  when  the  metal  ends  are  struck 
together  a  spark  is  made.      Front  and  back  movements 


Fig.  196.     Taking  a  Record  with  Electric  Dumb  Bells. 


Final  analysis 
of  rhythmic 
action. 


(or  the  rataplan)  are  well  adapted  to  measurements. 
What  is  rhythmic  action  ?  The  process  in  the  mind 
of  the  one  who  is  acting  is  in  the  first  place  an  estimate 
of  equal  intervals  of  time  ;  after  a  few  strokes  at  equal 
intervals  the  person  knows  just  when  to  expect  the  next 


Rhythmic  Action.  263 


one.  In  other  words,  it  is  a  case  of  time-memory  cor- 
rected by  an  actual  stroke  each  time.  Knowing  when 
to  expect  the  next  stroke,  an  act  of  will  is  executed  so 
that  the  final  action  occurs  in  some  definite  relation  to 
the  stroke,  generally  at  the  same  moment  or  just  after 
it.  This  process  might  be  called  a  reaction  to  an  ex- 
pectation. In  extreme  cases  the  act  of  will  may  be  so 
late  that  the  action  seems  actually  a  reaction  to  each 
stroke.  This  would  be  the  case  with  the  sergeant. 
In  some  cases  of  congregational  singing  the  leader  keeps 
about  a  quarter  of  a  second  ahead  of  the  congregation, 
implying  that  they  are  incapable  of  singing  the  tune  and 
must  rely  on  reaction  to  each  note  as  heard.  Such  re- 
actions are,  however,  so  complex  that  this  method  could 
hardly  be  of  use  unless  the  leader  is  very  far  ahead. 


CHAPTER    XX. 


SUGGESTION    AND    EXPECTATION. 


A  suggestion 
from  the  time 
of  dav. 


Originated  by 
associations. 


In  his  memoirs   Robert-Houdin  begins  with   a   de- 
scription of  the  effects  of  suggestion  from  the  time  of 
day. 

"  Eight  o'clock  has  just  struck  :  my  wife  and  children 
are  by  my  side.  I  have  spent  one  of  those  pleasant 
days  which  tranquillity,  work,  and  study  can  alone  se- 
cure— ^with  no  regret  for  the  past,  with  no  fear  for  the 
future,  I  am — I  am  not  afraid  to  say  it — as  happy  as 
man  can  be. 

' '  And  yet,  at  each  vibration  of  this  mysterious  hour, 
my  pulse  starts,  my  temples  throb,  and  I  can  scarce 
breathe,  so  much  do  I  feel  the  want  of  air  and  motion. 
I  can  reply  to  no  questions,  so  thoroughly  am  I  lost  in 
a  strange  and  delirious  reverie. 

*' Shall  I  confess  to  you,  reader?  And  why  not?  for 
this  electrical  effect  is  not  of  a  nature  to  be  easily  under- 
stood by  you.  The  reason  for  my  emotion  being  ex- 
treme at  this  moment  is  that,  during  my  professional 
career,  eight  o'clock  was  the  moment  when  I  must  ap- 
pear before  the  public.  Then,  with  my  eye  eagerly 
fixed  on  the  hole  in  the  curtain,  I  surveyed  with  intense 
pleasure  the  crowd  that  flocked  in  to  see  me.  Then,  as 
now,  my  heart  beat,  for  I  was  proud  and  happy  of  such 
success. 

"Do  you   now   understand,    reader,    all  the  reminis- 

264 


S2(ggcstio)i  and  Expectation.  265 

cences  this  hour  evokes  in  me,  and  the  solemn  feeUng 
that  continually  occurs  to  me  when  the  clock  strikes  ?' ' 

The  effect  of  suggestion — what  has  not  been  included  vague  use  of 
under  this  term  !    According  to  some  of  the  hypnotismus   ^'^^^^''"^• 
"psychologists,"  all  mental  life  from  the  simplest  im- 
pressions of  the  senses  up  to  the  highest  creations  of  art 
and  social  life — all  is  nothing  but  suggestion. 

Volumes  upon  volumes  have  been  written  on  hypno-    Errors  of  the 
tism  and  suggestion  ;  indeed,  the  list  of  works  itself  fills   ps^,?c^o°o!^"'"^" 
a  volume  with  over  2,000  titles.    But  at  the  end  of  it  all, 
what  have  we  besides  careless  observation,  vague  guess- 
work, and  endless  speculation  ?     It  is  all  on  the  level  of 
the  old  psychology,  not  an  experiment  in  it. 

Perhaps  the  most  curious  point  in  the  case  is  that 
among  the  hypnotism  dilettants,  the  mesmeric  mysticists, 
and  the  long-winded  double-consciousness  researchers 
there  is  actually  a  society  for  experimental  (!)  psychol- 
ogy. Most  of  these  people  ha^■e  duped  themselves  into 
the  belief  that  they  are  contributing  to  science  ;  this 
ceases  to  be  self-delusion  and  becomes  deliberate  swindle 
when  they  mislead  the  public  by  calling  their  inanities  by 
the  term  ' '  experiment. 

But  why  should  it  not  be  possible  to  experiment  on  possibility  of 
suggestion  ?  Why  should  it  not  be  possible  to  actually  ouTuggestion. 
measure  a  suggestion  and  its  effects  ?  It  is  possible. 
As  in  all  new  undertakings,  the  way  was  hard  to  find  ; 
our  attempts  have  cost  endless  thought  and  labor,  and 
we  have  a  choice  collection  of  failures  as  mementos. 
But  when  we  have  found  the  way,  it  seems  strange  that 
we  and  everybody  else  were  so  blind  as  not  to  see  it  long 
ago. 

Yet,  not  too  much  must  be  expected.      The  method  ^^j^^^  ^^^  been 
by  which  we  have  measured  the  suggesti\'e  effects  of  size  accomplished. 


266 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


The  suggestion 
blocks. 


on  weight  will  be  explained  and  the  results  will  be  given. 
This  will  serve  to  give  a  general  idea  of  one  of  our 
methods.  What  I  cannot  do  here  is,  to  give  an  account 
of  the  extended  researches  on  suggestion  and  hallucina- 
tion that  have  been  carried  on  in  my  laboratory  during 

the  last  two  years. 
We  have  found  the 
way  to  measure  in 
so  many  candle- 
power  a  suggestive 
effect  of  sight,  we 
can  produce  hallu- 
cinations of  tones 
that  are  equal  in  in- 
tensity to  real  tones 
whose  physical  en- 
ergy can  be  meas- 
ured, we  can  cause 

Producing  an  Hallucination  of  Warmth.  -  ,.   . 

a  person  by  walkmg 
a  certain  number  of  feet  to  see  a  spot  where  there  is 
none.  These  experiments  have  been  ably  and  patiently 
executed  under  my 


o 


'O 


65 


15        20       25        30       35        40       45 


directions  by  one  of 
my  pupils,  but  it  is 
the  rule  for  such  in- 
vestigations to  ap- 
pear first  in  the 
' '  Studies  from  the 
Yale  Psychological 
Laboratory. ' ' 

Here  is  a  series 
of  round  blocks 
painted  black  ;  in  appearance  they  are  all  just  alike,  but 


50 

Fig. 


55       60       65       70       75       80 

.    Blocks  for  Measuring  the  Effect  of 
a  Suggestion  of  Size. 


Suggestion  and  Expectation. 


267 


Making  the  ex- 
periment. 


How  much  ? 


in  weight  they  are  different.  This  block  Z>  is  a  very  big 
block  ;  pick  out  that  one  of  the  series  which  appears  of 
the  same  weight  as  the  big  one,  when  lifted  between 
thumb  and  finger.  You  know  nothing  about  the  blocks 
except  that,  to  the  best  of  your  belief,  the  big  one  is  of 
the  same  weight  as  the  medium-sized  one.  Put  them  on 
the  scales  ;  down  goes  the  big  one,  you  judged  it  to  be 
much  lighter  than  it  was.  Try  it  over  again  as  often  as 
you  please  ;  always  the  same  result.  By  means  of  the 
scales  find  the  medium  one  that  weighs  exactly  the  same 
as  the  large  one.  Then  compare  them  by  lifting  ;  noth- 
ing but  the  incontestable  evidence  of  the  scales  will 
make  you  believe  they  are  the  same.  After  being 
familiar  with  the  experiment  for  over  a  year  I  still  find 
the  effect  almost  as  strong  as  at  first. 

But  how  much  ?  It  is  not  sufficient  to  show  that  there 
is  a  suggestive  effect,  you  must  measure  it.  The  differ- 
ence in  weight  between  the  two  blocks  supposed  to  be 
equal  gives  the  effect  of  suggestion  in  just  so  many 
ounces  or  grams. 

In  a  set  of  experiments  carried  out  on  school  children  Experiments  on 
the  medium-sized  blocks  were  graded  in  weight  from  15 
grams  to  80  grams.  A  large  block  D  and  a  small  block  dy 
each  of  55  grams,  were  successively  compared  with  the 
set  of  graded  blocks.  The  difference  between  the 
weight  picked  out  for  the  larger  one,  e.  g. ,  20  grams, 
and  that  for  the  smaller  one,  e.  g.^  70  grams,  would 
give  the  effect  of  the  difference  in  size  between  the  two 
blocks.  The  difference  in  weight  in  this  example  would 
be  50  grams,  which  would  be  the  result  of  the  difference 
of  six  centimeters  in  the  diameter  of  the  blocks. 

The  effect  of  the  suggestion  depends  upon  the  age. 
The  results  for  the  New  Haven  school  children  are  indi- 


school  children. 


Dependence  on 
age. 


268 


Thinkijig,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Dependence 
on  sex. 


Extreme  cases. 


cated  in  Fig.  199.  The  figures  at  the  bottom  indicate 
the  ages  ;  those  at  the  left  the  number  of  grams  in  the 
effect  of  suggestion. 

About  100  children  of  each  age  from  6  to  17  were 
taken.  The  average  effect  of  the  suggestion  was  as  fol- 
lows :  6  years,  42  grams  ;  7  years,  45  grams  ;  8  years, 
48  grams  ;  9  years,  50  grams  ;  10  years,  44  grams  ;  11 
and  12  years,  40  grams  ;  13  years,  38  grams  ;  14  to  16 
years,  35  grams  ;  17  years,  27  grams 
Ai 


For  all  ages  the 


;^-' 


3f 


Sl/CCESTiOW. 


'2 y         F         7         72         T/        75        Tjf        77        7?        7t~ 

Fig.  199.     Dependence  of  the  Effect  of  Suggestion  on  Age  and  Sex. 


^7 


average  was  above  twenty-five  grams.  The  suggesti- 
bility slowly  increases  from  six  years  to  nine  years  ;  after 
nine  years  it  steadily  decreases  as  the  children  grow 
older.  The  results,  when  separately  calculated  for  boys 
and  girls,  show  that  at  all  ages  the  girls  were  more  sus- 
ceptible to  suggestion  than  the  boys,  with  the  exception 
of  the  age  nine,  where  both  were  extremely  susceptible. 
These  are  the  average  results  for  large  numbers  of 
children.  Many  young  people,  however,  were  so  sus- 
ceptible that  the  set  of  middle-sized  blocks  did  not  range 
far  enough  to  suit  them.  At  the  age  of  seven  years  37  per 
cent  of  the  children  declared  that  the  large  block  was 
lighter  than  the  lightest  block,  and  that  the  small  block 


Suggestion  and  Expectation.  269 


was  heavier  than  the  heaviest.  The  actual  difference  be- 
tween them  was  65  grams  ;  thus  the  effect  of  suggestion 
was  more  than  the  weight  of  the  suggesting  blocks  D 
and  d. 

The  factors  that  produce  such  a  deception  of  judg-   Factors  in  the 
ment  seem  to  consist  in  a  suggestion — or,  rather,  a  dis-   siS^^^^"^"  ^™"^ 
appointed  suggestion — of  weight.       Big  things  are,  of 
course,  heavier  than  little  things  of  exactly  the  same 
kind.     When  we  find  two  things   of  the  same  appear- 
ance but  differing  in  size,  the  big  thing  must  be  heavier. 
This  reasoning  is  all  done  without  our  suspecting  it,  and 
we  unconsciously  allow  our  judgment  of  weight  to  be  in- 
fluenced by  the  size  as  seen.     When  the  eyes  are  closed 
and  the  blocks  are  lifted  by  strings,  of  course  there  is 
no  illusion. 

Which  is  the  heavier,  a  pound  of  lead  or  a  pound  of  a  pound  of  lead 
feathers  ?  A  pound  of  lead,  says  the  unsuspecting  per-  feathe?s°""  ° 
son,  and  then  you  guy  him  for  his  stupidity.  But  this 
poor  fellow,  who  has  been  laughed  at  for  centuries,  is 
right.  A  pound  isn't  a  pound  all  the  world  over  ;  it  all 
depends  on  how  the  pound  looks.  A  pound  of  lead  is 
heavier  than  a  pound  of  feathers.  Try  it  with  a  pillow 
and  a  piece  of  lead  pipe.  No  matter  if  the  scales  do  say 
that  they  weigh  just  the  same,  the  pound  of  lead  is  much 
the  heavier  as  long  as  you  look  at  it. 

In  the  preceding  case  we  have  had  a  suggestion  from  froSfthespanof 
sight  alone.  Similar  effects  are  produced  by  differences  ^^^  fingers, 
in  the  span  of  the  fingers.  Suppose  we  have  all  our 
blocks  of  exactly  the  same  diameter.  We  have  one  set 
just  alike  in  size  but  differing  in  weight,  and  other 
blocks  of  just  the  same  diameter  and  weight  but  differ- 
ing in  length,  one  being  very  long  and  the  other  very 
short.     The  experiments  are  made  in  the  same  way  as 


270 


Thinkings  Feelings  Doing. 


Suggestion  by 
movements : 


by  gesture ; 


by  expression  of 
the  face. 


Irresistible 
suggestions. 


before  except  that  the  eyes  are  closed.  The  suggestion 
arises  from  the  difference  in  span  of  the  fingers  for  a 
long  block  and  a  short  one.  By  looking  at  the  blocks 
with  the  eyes  open,  a  sight-suggestion  is  added  to  the 
muscular  suggestion. 

In  the  preceding  cases  it  has  been  noticed  how  a 
suggestion  causes  a  change  in  judgment ;  there  is  an- 
other field  in  which  suggestion  is  very  active,  namely, 
the  suggestion  of  movement.  While  a  person  is  exert- 
ing his  whole  power  on  a  dynamometer  (page  83), 
let  him  observe  contracting  movements  of  your  hand. 
He  soon  feels  irresistible  twitchings  in  his  own  hand  and 
actually  exerts  still  more  force. 

The  suggestion  of  movement  may  even  take  effect 
against  the  will  of  the  person  concerned.  A  child  in 
school  with  the  Vitus  dance  will  sometimes  be  invol- 
untarily imitated  by  the  others.  A  contagion  of  this 
kind  that  occurs  in  every-day  life  is  the  effect  of  gaping. 

The  orator  and  the  actor  make  use  of  expressions  and 
gestures  intended  to  arouse  similar  impulses  in  their 
hearers  and  consequently  to  make  their  ideas  more 
effective. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  you  wish  to  get  at  the  thoughts 
of  a  person  with  whom  you  are  speaking,  you  should 
look  steadily  at  his  face.  His  expression  cannot  help 
changing,  and  these  changes  produce  similar  changes  in 
your  own  face,  thereby  awakening  various  emotions  of 
doubt,  confidence,  anxiety,  etc.  This  was  an  art  of 
old-time  diplomacy.  The  readiness  of  women  to  read 
characters  in  this  way  may  be  due  to  their  greater 
susceptibility  to  suggestion. 

Every  idea  of  a  movement  brings  an  impulse  to  move- 
ment.    This   is  especially  prominent  in  those  rare  indi- 


Suggestion  and  Expe elation. 


271 


viduals  who  cannot  keep  a  secret.  The  very  reading  and 
thinking  about  crimes  and  scandalous  actions  produce  a 
tendency  to  commit  them.  In  some  persons  this  in- 
fluence is  quite  irresistible.  As  soon  as  one  bomb- 
thrower  attacks  a  rich  banker,  everybody  knows  that 
within  a  week  half  a  dozen  others  will  do  the  same.  No 
sooner  does  one  person  commit  suicide  in  such  a  way 
that  it  is  strikingly  described  in  the  newspapers,  than  a 
dozen  others  go  and  do  likewise. 

A  runner,  prepared  to  start,  can  often  cause  the 
starter  to  fire  his  pistol  unintentionally  by  starting  to 
run.  This  runner  is  ahead  of  the  starter  by  the  amount 
of  the  starter's  reaction-time,  while  the  other  runners  are 
behind  the  starter  by  the  amounts  of  their  own  reaction- 
times.  As  the  reaction-time  may  readily  amount  to  one 
third  of  a  second,  the  runner  who  relied  on  the  sugges- 
tion may  gain  by  a  large  fraction  of  a  second. 

Thus  we  have  gathered  a  few  facts  on  suggestibility 
by  experiment.  The  full  significance  of  suggestibility  is 
apparent  when  we  remember  that  teaching,  preaching, 
acting,  public  speaking,  and  pleading  are  forms  of  sug- 
gesting. The  freaks  of  hypnotism  are  performed  by 
suggestion.  The  faith-cures  and  the  miraculous  effects 
of  the  Grotto  of  Lourdes  are  benevolent  suggestions. 
The  ceremonials  of  our  churches  are  suggestions  bring- 
ing us  into  a  religious  frame  of  mind.  The  manipu- 
lations of  the  spiritualists  and  the  monotonous  blackness 
of  a  funeral  are  all  forms  of  suggestion.  How  shall  we 
develop  the  children  so  as  to  produce  in  them  minds 
well  balanced  in  respect  to  suggestion  ?  Is  this  not  as 
important  a  task  as  learning  to  do  percentage  of  to 
parse  a  sentence  ?  Here  is  a  field  where  the  educator 
and  the  psychologist  must  seek  for  facts. 


The  runner's 
trick  of 
suggestion. 


Significance  of 
suggestibility. 


272 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Suggestive  ex- 
pectation. 

Effect  on  re- 
action-time. 


Different   direc- 
tion ofattention. 


Effect  in  astro- 
nomical 
records. 


Passage  of  a 
star. 


Method  of  re- 
cording. 


In  expecting  an  event  we  have  some  thought  in  mind  ; 
this  thought  often  acts  as  a  suggestion. 

The  time  of  reaction  depends  on  its  expectedness  ; 
unexpected  events  require  in  general  more  time  and 
produce  very  irregular  results.  It  is  customary  to 
give  a  warning  click  about  two  seconds  before  an  ex- 
periment. Experiments  on  one  person  give  a  reaction 
time  of  305  without   warning  and    188  with  warning. 

It  also  makes  a  difference  if  the  attention  is  directed 
to  the  stimulus  expected  or  to  the  movement  to  be  exe- 
cuted. In  general  the  latter  method  is  quicker,  but 
with  some  persons  the  reverse  is  the  case.  Experiments 
made  on  one  subject  give  as  reaction-time  to  sound  the 
result  216  when  the  attention  was  directed  toward  the 
expected  sound,  and  127  when  it  was  directed  toward  the 
finger  to  be  moved. 

The  expectation  that  a  star  will  pass  one  of  the  hair- 
lines in  a  telescope  produces  differences  in  regard  to  the 
time  of  its  passage  as  actually  recorded.  This  phenome- 
non, which  led  to  the  discovery  of  mental  times,  is  more 
complicated  than  the  simple  cases  of  reaction-time  and 
thinking-time  that  we  have  considered  in  Chapters  III. 
and  IV. 

Let  me  illustrate  how  this  happens  by  a  simple  case. 
Suppose  that  we  have  to  determine  the  time  of  the 
passage  of  a  star  at  some  distance  from  the  pole  across 
the  meridian.  We  may  employ  an  old  astronomical 
method  which  is  still  sometimes  used  for  time-de- 
terminations, and  which  is  called  the  "eye  and  ear 
method."  A  little  before  the  time  of  the  expected 
passage,  the  astronomer  sets  his  telescope,  in  the  eye- 
piece of  which  there  have  been  fixed  a  number  of 
clearly  visible  vertical  threads,  in  such  a  way  that  the 


Suggestion  a?id  Expeciatioyi.  273 


middle  thread  exactly  coincides  with  the  meridian  of  the 
part  of  the  sky  under  observation.  Before  looking 
through  the  instrument,  he  notes  the  time  by  the  as- 
tronomical clock  at  his  side,  and  then  goes  on  counting 
the  pendulum-beats  while  he  follows  the  movement  of 
the  star. 

Now  the  time-determination  would  be  very  simple  if  a 
pendulum-beat  came  at  the  precise  moment  at  which  the 
star  crosses  the  middle  thread.  But  that,  of  course, 
happens  only  occasionally  and  by  chance  ;  as  a  rule,  the 
passage  occurs  in  the  interval  between  two  beats.  To 
ascertain  the  exact  time  of  the  passage,  therefore,  it  is 
necessary  to  determine  how  much  time  has  elapsed  be- 
tween the  last  beat  before  the  passage  and  the  passage 
itself,  and  to  add  this  time — some  fraction  of  a  second — 
to  the  time  of  the  last  beat.  The  observer  notes,  there- 
fore, the  position  of  the  star  at  the  beat  directly  before 
its  passage  across  the  middle  thread,  and  also  its  posi- 
tion at  the  beat  which  comes  immediately  after  the  pas- 
sage, and  then  divides  the  time  according  to  the  length 
of  space  traversed. 

If  y  (Fig.  200)  is  the  middle  thread  of  the  telescope, 
a  the  position  of  the  star  at  the  first  beat,  and  b  at  the 
second,    and  if    af  \s,  e.g.,  twice  as   long  2iS  fb,  there 


Estimation  of 
fractions  of  a 
second. 


Influence  of  the 

observer's 

attention. 


Fie:.  200. 


a  f         b 

Actual  Positions  of  the  Star  at  the  Pendulum-beats. 


must  be  added  -  3  of  a  second  to  the  last  counted  second. 
It  has  already  been  told  (page  40)  how  the  astrono- 
mers disagree  in  their  records  although  the  star  would 
have  the  same  position  for  all.  A  constant  and  reg- 
ular   difference,   such    as    this    actually   is,    can    be    ex- 


274 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Visual 
attention. 


Auditory 
attention. 


plained  on  the  assumption  that  the  objective  times  of  the 
actual  events  and  the  times  of  their  notice  by  the  ob- 
server are  not  identical,  and  that  these  times  show  a  fur- 
ther difference  from  one  another  according  to  the  individ- 
ual observer.  Now,  attention  will  obviously  exercise  a 
decisive  influence  upon  the  direction  and  magnitude  of 
such  individual  variations.  Suppose  that  one  observer 
is  attending  more  closely  to  the  visual  impression  of  the 
star.  A  relatively  longer  time  will  elapse  before  he  notices 
the  sound  of  the  pendulum-beat.  If,  therefore,  the  real 
position  of  the  star  is  a  at  the  first  beat  and  b  at  the 
second  (Fig.  201)  the  sound  will  possibly  not  be  noticed 
till  c  and  d,  so  that  these  appear  to  be  the  two  po- 
sitions of  the  star.  If  ac  and  bd  are  each  of  them  Yz 
of  a  second,  the  passage  of  the  star  is  plainly  put  Yz  of 
a  second  later  than  it  really  should  be. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  the  attention  is  concentrated  prin- 
cipally on  the  pendulum-beats,  it  will  be  fully  ready  and 


a  c         f         b  d 

Fig.  201.    Supposed  Positions  with  Visual  Attention. 

properly  adjusted  for  these,  coming  as  they  do  in  regular 
succession,  before  they  actually  enter  consciousness. 

Hence  it  may  happen  that  the  beat  of  the  pendulum 
is  associated  with  some  point  of  time  earlier  than  the 
exact  moment  of  the  star's  passage  across  the  meridian. 

,.    |.. 

c     a  f  d     b 

Fig.  202.    Supposed  Positions  with  Auditory  Attention. 

In  this  case  you  hear  too  early,  so  to  speak,  just  as  in 
the  other  case  you  heard  too  late.  The  positions  c  and 
d  (Fig.  202)  are  now  inversely  related  to  a  and  b.      \ica 


Suggestion  and  Expectation.  275 

and  db  are,  say,  f  of  a  second,  the  passage  is  put  f  of 
a  second  earlier  than  it  really  occurs.  If  we  imagine 
that  one  of  two  astronomers  observes  on  the  scheme  of 
Fig.  201,  the  other  on  that  of  Fig.  202 — in  other 
words,  that  the  attention  of  the  one  is  predominantly 
visual,  that  of  the  other  predominantly  auditory — there 
will  be  a  constant  personal  difference  between  them 
of  i  +  f  =  f  of  a  second.  You  can  also  see  that  Difference  in 
smaller  differences  will  appear  where  the  manner  of 
observing  is  the  same  in  both  cases  but  with  differences 
in  the  degree  of  the  strain  of  the  attention  ;  while  larger 
differences  must  point  to  differences  like  those  just  de- 
scribed, in  the  direction  of  the  attention. 


attention. 


System  of 
psychology. 


Absurdity  of 
anybody's 

"  system." 


Early 
psychology. 


Plato. 


Aristotle. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

MATERIALISM    AND    SPIRITUALISM    IN    PSYCHOLOGY. 

In  the  good  old  days,  now  happily  gone  forever, 
when  psychology  belonged  to  philosophy,  we  were  accus- 
tomed to  hear  of  materialistic  psychology,  spiritualistic 
psychology,  the  psychology  of  Hamilton,  the  psychol- 
ogy of  Hegel,  English  psychology,  German  psychology, 
etc.,  etc. 

Nowadays  it  is  just  as  absurd  to  speak  of  anybody's 
system  of  psychology  as  to  speak  of  anybody's  system 
of  chemistry.  There  is  one  science  of  chemistry  to 
which  all  scientific  chemists  are  contributors ;  there  is  one 
science  of  psychology  which  all  scientific  psychologists 
make  their  humble  efforts  to  develop.  How  this  has 
come  about  I  am  going  to  tell  by  translating  a  few  pages 
from  Wundt's  "  Vorlesungen  liber  Menschen  und  Thier- 
seele."^ 

' '  The  earliest  psychology  is  materialism.  The  soul  is 
air  or  fire  or  an  ether  ;  it  remains,  however,  material, 
notwithstanding  the  efforts  to  lighten  and  thereby  to 
spiritualize  the  matter.  Among  the  Greeks  it  was  Plato 
who  first  freed  the  soul  from  the  body,  whereby  he  made 
it  the  ruling  principle  of  the  latter.  He  thus  opened  the 
path  for  the  one-sided  dualism  which  regarded  sensory 
existence  as  the  contamination  and  degradation  of  a 
purely  mental  being.     Aristotle,  who  united  a  wonder- 

*  The    whole    work    has    been  translated  and  published  under  the  title, 
"  Lectures  in  Human  and  Animal  Psychology." 


276 


Materialism  and  Spirititalism  in  Psychology.      277 

ful  sharpness  of  observation  to  his  gift  of  speculation,  Aristotelian 
sought  to  soften  this  contrast  by  infusing  the  soul  into  psychology, 
matter  as  the  vivifying  and  constructive  principle.  In 
the  animals,  in  the  expression  of  the  human  form  in  re- 
pose and  motion,  even  in  nourishment  and  growth,  he 
saw  direct  effects  of  mental  forces,  and  he  drew  the  gen- 
eral conclusion  that  the  soul  brings  forth  all  organic  form 
just  as  the  artist  forms  the  block  of  marble.  Life  and 
soul  were  for  him  the  same  ;  even  the  plant  had  a  soul. 
Yet,  Aristotle,  like  no  one  before  him,  had  studied  into 
the  depths  of  his  own  consciousness.  In  his  work  on 
the  soul,  the  first  book  treating  psychology  as  an  Inde- 
pendent science,  we  find  the  fundamental  processes  care- 
fully distinguished  and — as  far  as  possible  in  his  time — 
explained  as  to  their  relations. 

' '  The  Aristotelian  psychology,  and  especially  its  fun-   Middle  Ages. 
damental  principle  that  the  soul  is  the  principle  of  life, 
governed  the  whole  of  the  Middle  Ages.      At  the  begin- 
ning of  modern  times  here,  as  in  other  subjects,  a  return 
to  the  Platonic  views  began  to  weaken  its  power.     Soon   pia\onlsm 
a  new  influence  was  associated  :  the  revival  of  the  modern 
natural  sciences  and  the  mechanical  views  of  the  world 
which  they  spread  abroad.     The  result  of  the  conflict  was 
the  birth  of  two  fundamental  views  in  psychology  which 
down  to  the  present  day  have  fought  each  other  in  the 
field  of  science  :  spiritualism  and  materialism.     Strange 
to  say,  the  very  same  man  was  of  primary  importance  for  Descartes  as  a 
the  development  of  both.      Descartes,  no  less  great  as   ^^^" 
mathematician  than  as   philosopher,   defined,   in    oppo- 
sition to  the  Aristotelian  psychology,   the    soul   exclu- 
sively as  a  thinking  being  ;  and,  following  the  Platonic 
views,   he  ascribed  to  it  an  existence,   originally  apart 
firom  the  body,  whence  it  derived  as  permanent  property 


278 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


Later  spiritual- 
ism. 


Descartes  as  a 
materialist. 


Later  material- 
ism. 


all  those  ideas  which  go  beyond  sensory  experience. 
Itself  occupying  no  space,  this  soul  was  connected  with 
the  body  at  one  point  of  the  brain,  in  order  to  receive 
the  influences  from  the  outer  world  and  in  its  turn  to  ex- 
ercise its  influence  on  the  body. ' ' 

The  later  spiritualism  advanced  but  little  beyond  this 
theory  of  Descartes.  Its  last  great  representative  was 
Herbart.  He  developed  in  thoroughly  logical  manner 
the  idea  of  a  simple  soul  substance,  according  to  Des- 
cartes. Herbart  was  of  very  great  service  to  the  new  psy- 
chology in  a  certain  way,  and  we  shall  say  something  about 
his  work  later  (page  284),  but  his  spiritualistic  psychol- 
ogy was  a  total  failure.  His  attempts  at  deducing  the 
facts  of  mental  life  from  the  idea  of  a  simple  soul  and  its 
relations  to  other  beings,  proved  fruitless.  His  efforts 
showed  more  clearly  than  anything  else  could  do  that  this 
pathway  was  an  impossible  one  for  psychology.  The 
idea  of  a  simple  soul  substance  had  not  been  derived  from 
actual  observations  of  mental  life  but  had  been  arbitrarily 
and  unreasonably  asserted  ;  the  facts  were  to  be  forced 
to  fit. 

Descartes  contributed  to  the  development  of  modern 
materialism  in  two  ways,  by  his  strictly  mechanical  view 
of  nature  in  general  and  by  his  treatment  of  animals  as 
automats.  Man  alone  had  a  mind  ;  animals  were  ma- 
chines. But  if  the  many  evidences  of  thinking,  feeling, 
and  willing  among  animals  can  be  explained  physiologi- 
cally, why  cannot  the  same  explanation  be  used  for  man  ? 
This  was  the  starting-point  for  the  materialism  of  the 
seventeenth  century. 

For  materialism  all  facts  of  thinking,  feeling,  and 
doing  are  products  of  certain  organs  in  the  nervous  sys- 
tem.     Any  observation  of  the  facts  of  mind  is  valueless 


mind.' 


ity. 


Materialism  and  Spiritualism  in  Psychology.    279 

until  such  facts  can  be  explained  by  chemical  and  physi- 
cal processes.  Thinking  is  a  production  of  the  brain.  "  chemistry  of 
Since  this  process  stops  when  the  circulation  of  the  blood 
.stops  and  life  ceases,  therefore  thought  is  nothing  but  an 
accompaniment  of  the  materials  of  which  the  brain  is 
composed. 

Down  to  the  present  day  modern  materialism  has  its  impossibii- 
not  gotten  beyond  this  point — mental  life  is  a  product 
of  the  brain  ;  psychology  is  merely  physiology  of  the 
brain.  Our  feelings,  thoughts,  and  acts  of  will,  however, 
cannot  be  observed  as  all  phenomena  of  nature  have  been 
observed.  We  can  hear  the  word  that  expresses  a 
thought,  we  can  see  the  man  who  formed  it,  we  can  dis- 
sect the  brain  that  thought  it  ;  but  the  word,  the  man, 
the  brain — these  were  not  the  thought.  A  feeling  of 
anger  is  accompanied  by  an  increase  of  blood  in  the 
brain  ;  but  no  matter  how  minute  our  knowledge  of  the 
chemical  processes  between  the  blood  and  the  brain  sub- 
stance may  be,  we  know  that  we  can  never  find  out  the 
chemistry  of  anger. 

But,  says  materialism,  these  material  processes  may  « Brain  pro- 
not  be  the  thoughts,  yet  they  produce  them.  Just  as  the 
liver  produces  bile,  just  as  the  contraction  of  muscle 
causes  motion,  so  are  our  ideas  and  emotions  produced 
by  blood  and  brain,  by  heat  and  electricity.  Yet  a  very 
important  difference  has  been  overlooked.  We  can 
show  how  the  bile  is  produced  by  chemical  processes  in 
the  liver  ;  we  can  show  how  the  movement  is  the  result 
of  chemical  processes  in  the  muscle  ;  but  brain  processes 
give  us  no  information  of  the  way  thoughts  are  produced. 
We  can  understand  how  one  bodily  movement  produces 
another  movement,  how  one  emotion  or  sensation 
changes  to  another  emotion  or  sensation  ;    but  how  a 


duces  mind." 


Its  absurdity. 


terialism. 


280  Thinking,   Feelifig,  Doing. 

motion  of  molecules  or  a  chemical  process  can  produce 
an  emotion  is  what  no  system  of  mechanics  can  make 
clear. 

Revised  ma-  Thcsc  vagarics  of  materialism  have  called  attention  to 

the  study  of  the  relations  between  mind  and  brain,  and 
we  have  had  ' '  mental  physiologies, ' '  even  from  those 
who  are  not  materialists.  The  study  of  what  happens  in 
the  brain  or  in  any  part  of  the  body  when  we  are  angry, 
or  when  we  think  of  an  apple,  is,  of  course,  an  immensely 
valuable  thing.  The  absurdity  arises  when  it  is  asserted 
that  every  mental  fact  is  merely  an  appendix  to  some 
brain  process  ;  that,  for  example,  we  do  not  feel  merry 
at  the  thought  of  a  joke,  but  that  certain  chemical 
processes  in  the  brain  produced  the  thought  of  the  joke 
and  at  the  same  time  set  going  other  chemical  processes 
that  produced  the  merry  feeling.  There  are  many  vol- 
umes of  so-called  ' '  psychology ' '  in  which  each  mental 
process  is  translated  into  some  imaginary  (for  we  have  no 
facts  on  the  subject)  movement  of  brain  molecules, 
which  in  some  imaginary  fashion  sets  up  another  imagi- 
nary movement,  which  is  translated  into  a  second  mental 
process  that  really  followed  the  first  one  according  to  a 
simple  psychological  law. 

But  the  strife  between  spiritualism  and  materialism  is 

the  \yhofe  dis-  almost  passcd.  "  It  has  left  no  contribution  to  science, 
and  no  one  who  carefully  examines  the  subject  of  the 
strife  can  wonder  at  such  a  result.  For  what  was  the 
central  point  of  the  battle  of  opinions  ?  About  nothing 
else  than  the  questions  concerning  the  soul,  its  seat,  its 
connection  with  the  body.  Materialism  here  fell  into  the 
same  fault  as  spiritualism.  Instead  of  beginning  upon 
the  facts  that  were  observed  and  investigating  their  rela- 
tions,  it  busied   itself  with    metaphysical    questions  for 


Fruitlessness  of 
the  who 
cussion. 


MaterialisTn  and  Spiritualisjn  in  Psychology.     281 


Mistake  of 


which  answers  can  be  found  only — if  ever — through  a 
completely  unprejudiced — i.  e.^  at  the  start  free  from 
every  metaphysical  supposition — investigation  of  the  facts 
of  experience. ' ' 

Starting  from  entirely  different  points  of  view,  both 
spiritualism  and  materialism  have  landed  in  utterly  fruit-  "method. 
less  suppositions.  The  reason  therefor  lay  in  the  meth- 
ods which  they  employed.  To  suppose  that  anything 
could  be  gained  by  vague  speculation  on  mental  life  was 
folly  equaled  only  by  the  belief  that  dissecting  brains 
would  lead  to  a  knowledge  of  mind.  Both  parties  for- 
got one  point — namely,  to  examine  the  facts  of  mind 
itself 

It  is  this  forgotten  duty  that  led  to  the  new  psychology 
— a  psychology  of  fact.  This  psychology  of  mental  life,  choiogy. 
this  science  of  direct  investigation  of  our  thinking,  feel- 
ing, and  doing,  is  neither  spiritualism  nor  materialism  ; 
it  has  no  speculations  of  either  kind  to  offer.  It  confines 
itself  strictly  to  the  domain  of  fact.  As  long  as  they  can 
set  themselves  in  harmony  with  the  facts,  the  Hegelian 
philosopher  and  the  Feuerbachian  materialist  have  equal 
rights.  When  they  go  beyond  the  facts,  they  may  settle 
the  question  between  them  ;  the  new  psychology  is  very 
thankful  that  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  either. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


THE    NEW    PSYCHOLOGY. 


Psychology  is 
the  science  of 
thinking,  feel- 
ing, doing. 


The  new 
method  of  in- 
vestigation. 


The  facts  we  have  been  considering  in  this  book  have 
been  facts  of  mind,  not  of  the  physical  world.  The 
beautiful  colors  we  see  are — the  physicists  tell  us — only 
vibrations  of  ether  ;  the  physical  world  has  no  color,  the 
colors  exist  only  when  we  are  present.  Physical  vibra- 
tions of  the  air  are  to  us  tones.  Certain  mechanical 
movements  are  to  us  pressures.  Feelings  and,  will-im- 
pulses may  betray  themselves  by  movements  or  other- 
wise ;  in  themselves  they  are  mental  facts.  In  short,  we 
may  say  that  all  the  facts,  as  we  know  them,  are  mental, 
facts.     The  science  of  these  facts  is  psychology. 

But  what  is  the  new  psychology  ?  The  new  psychol- 
ogy is  entitled  to  its  special  adjective  because  it  employs 
a  method  new  in  the  history  of  psychology,  although  not 
new  in  the  history  of  science. 

The  old  psychologist,  like  Locke,  Hamilton,  and 
many  of  the  present  day,  sits  at  his  desk  and  writes  vol- 
umes of  vague  observation,  endless  speculation,  and  flimsy 
guesswork.  The  psychologist  of  the  new  dispensation 
must  see  every  statement  proven  by  experiment  and 
measurement  before  he  will  commit  himself  in  regard  to 
it.  Every  alleged  fact,  every  statement,  must  be  brought 
as  evidence — sworn  to  by  the  Eternal  Truth  under  pen- 
alty of  scientific  disgrace — before  the  Court  of  Reason. 

The  difference  between  the  old  and*  the  new  is  not  one 


2S2 


The  New  Psychology.  283 

of  material  ;  the  subject  is  the  same  for  both,  namely,  the   Difference  be- 
facts   of  mind.     The   difference   lies    in    the  carefulness  an?th?new^ 
with  which  the  information  in  regard  to  these  phenomena 
is  obtained.      Instead  of  careless  observation  and  guess- 
work the  utmost  care  and  self-sacrificing  labor  are  ex- 
pended in  the  laboratory  in  order  to  obtain  single  facts. 

This  method  of  careful,  scientific  work  is  unintelligible  xhenewpsy- 
to  the  men  of  the  old  school.  The  method  of  experi-  ciare? to^be  a 
ment  ' '  taxes  patience  to  the  utmost ' '  and  ' '  could  hardly  "  ^°''^-" 
have  arisen  in  a  country  whose  natives  could  be  boiled. ' ' 
Just  as  the  schoolmen  of  long  ago  were  busy  in  specula- 
ting on  such  questions  as,  '  *  How  many  angels  could 
dance  on  the  point  of  a  needle  ?' '  so  these  men  write 
volumes  about  the  J\Ie.  the  Unity  of  Consciousness,  the 
Consciousness  of  Identity,  etc.  It  never  occurs  to  them 
that  the  world  might  ask,  ' '  Well,  what  of  it  ?  "  Sup- 
pose you  have  proved  that  19^  angels  can  dance  on  the 
aforesaid  needle.  Well,  what  of  it  ?  Suppose  you  have 
settled  to  your  satisfaction  that  consciousness  is  a  unity, 
is  double,  or  is  anything  else  you  please.  Well,  what  of 
it  ?  When  you  have  wTitten  your  500  or  i ,  000  pages 
on  these  subjects,  is  the  world  any  better  off?  have  you 
contributed  one  single  fact  to  the  advance  of  science  and 
humanity  ?  While  you  were  up  in  the  clouds  specula- 
ting, we  were  hungering,  dying  for  the  lack  of  informa- 
tion on  the  most  vital  questions.  Have  you  no  thought, 
no  suggestion  as  to  how  we  may  grow  better  ourselves 
and  educate  our  children  to  a  better  life  ? 

A\^ho  are  the  men  to  whom  we  owe  the  regeneration  ?  p^  ^.j^oio^  ^^ 
Of  course,  the  psychological  awakening  is  only  a  part  of  ^^'^^  ^'■^^• 
the  great  movement  by  w^hich  many  of  the  sciences  have 
successively   emerged    from    the    scholasticism   of   the 
Middle  Ages.      Mathematics,   physics,    chemistry,   biol- 


284 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


English  psy- 
chology. 


German  psy- 
chology'. 


Herbart. 


ogy,  and  others  are  now  free  and  fruitful  sciences  ;  psy- 
chology has  just  joined  the  group,  leaving  education, 
logic,  and  aesthetics  for  some  future  generation. 

Sir  William  Hamilton  is  the  one  to  whom  we  must 
look  back  as  having  vindicated  the  right  to  build  psy- 
chology upon  observations  and  not  to  deduce  it  from 
philosophical  prejudices.  Since  his  time  English  psy- 
chology has  been  nominally  empirical  {i.  e.,  founded  on 
experience),  but  actually  merely  a  collection  of  vague 
observations  as  the  basis  of  endless  discussion. 

In  Germany  the  natural  revolt  from  the  dull  scholasti- 
cism of  the  psychol- 
ogy of  Wolff  and  the 
mad  speculation  of 
Schelling  was  led  by 
Herbart. 

The  philosopher, 
psychologist,  and  ed- 
ucator, Herbart,  was 
born  in  1776.  Hebe- 
came  professor  of 
philosophy  at  Got- 
tingen  ;  later  he  suc- 
ceeded Kant  as  pro- 
fessor of  philosophy 
in  Konigsberg,  where 
he  died  in  1841.  He 
is  best  known  for  his 
works  on  education  ; 
these  being  founded  on  his  psychology,  have  led 
educational  people  to  adopt  the  Herbartian  psychol- 
ogy with  the  Herbartian  pedagogy.  The  Herbartian 
pedagogy,  with  the  improvements  of  its  followers,  is,  to- 


Fig.  203.    Johann  Friedrich  Herbart. 


The  New  Psychology.  285 

day,  perhaps  the  best  system  and  guide  that  we  have. 

To  Herbart  as  a  psychologist  we  also  owe  a  debt,  positive  service 
The  old  faculty-psychology,  with  Its  groundless  and  end-  °  Herbart. 
less  speculation,  aroused  his  ire  ;  he  set  about  producing 
a  new  psychology.  In  the  first  place,  he  determined  to 
start  from  the  facts  as  he  observed  them  in  his  own  mind  ; 
this  was  in  itself  a  great  step.  You  have  probably 
heard  of  the  medieval  student  who,  at  the  time  when  the 
disco\'ery  of  spots  on  the  sun  began  to  be  talked  about, 
called  the  attention  of  his  old  instructor  to  them.  The 
reply  was:  "  There  can  be  no  spots  on  the  sun,  for  I  have 
read  Aristotle' s  works  from  beginning  to  end  and  he  says 
the  sun  is  incorruptible.  Clean  your  lenses,  and  if  the 
spots  are  not  in  the  telescope,  they  must  be  in  your 
eye." 

Alas !  there  are  to-day  so-called  psychologists  who 
write  volumes  full  of  what  Locke  said,  what  Hamilton's 
opinion  was,  what  Reid  thought,  what  Hume  believed, 
without  ever  dreaming  of  asking  what  the  facts  are. 

This  debt  we  owe  to  Herbart  is  a  great  one  ;  the  other  Negative  serv- 
debt  w^e  owe  him  is  for  a  different  reason.  Mathematics,  i^e  of  Herbart. 
we  all  know,  is  the  fostering  mother  of  the  sciences. 
What  was  more  natural  than  to  place  poor,  disreputable 
psychology  in  her  care?  This  is  what  Herbart  at- 
tempted. On  the  basis  of  his  observations  he  proceeded 
to  build  up  his  mathematics  of  ideas.  His  results  are 
very  curious  ;  for  example,  if  you  have  an  idea  in  your 
mind  and  another  one  wishes  to  get  in,  there  occurs  a 
strife  between  them  and  they  press  against  each  other 

with   a   force   proportional  to  — ==v.      Oi  course,    the  Algebraic  foiiy. 

whole   thing  was  utterly  absurd.      Mathematics   makes 
use  of  symbols  for  quantities ;  when  you  speak  of  a  dis- 


286 


Thinkings   Feeling,   Doing. 


How  to  make 

mathematics 

applicable. 


Herbart  and 
Fechner. 


New  psychol- 
ogy is  a  devel- 
opment. 


tance  /,  you  mean  just  so  many  inches  or  centimeters  or 
miles  ;  t  represents  a  number.  But  when  Herbart  speaks 
of  an  idea  with  the  intensity  a,  there  is  no  method  of 
giving  any  quantitative  indication  of  how  great  this  in- 
tensity is  ;  he  knows  of  no  measure  of  intensity,  and  his 
use  of  symbols  is  absolutely  meaningless.  No  mathe- 
matician would  ever  dream  of  such  folly.  The  second 
debt  we  owe  to  Herbart  is,  then,  that  of  a  warning  ex- 
ample against  unfounded  speculation.  Herbart  revolted 
against  metaphysical  speculation,  but  fell  into  a  kind  of 
mathematical  speculation  that  was  no  less  metaphysical. 

But  if  all  that  was  lacking  was  merely  the  quantitative 
expression  for  psychological  facts,  why  not  get  to  work 
and  measure  them,  just  as  in  astronomy  and  physics  ? 
But  how  ?  How  can  we  measure  the  intensity  or  a  pain, 
or  the  time  of  thought,  or  the  extent  of  touch  ?  The 
matter  seems  really  incomprehensible. 

One  of  the  surest  ways  of  being  put  in  the  wrong  is  to' 
say  that  something  can  never  be  done.  Comte,  the 
philosopher,  once  said  that  it  would  be  forever  impos- 
sible to  tell  the  composition  of  the  stars  ;  forty-three 
years  later  the  use  of  the  spectroscope  enabled  astrono- 
mers to  analyze  each  one.  Herbart  declared  that 
* '  psychology  must  not  experiment  with  man  ;  and  instru- 
ments thereto  do  not  exist  "  ;  in  another  place  he  asserts 
that  * '  psychological  quantities  are  not  presented  in  such 
a  way  that  they  can  be  measured  ;  they  allow  only  an 
incomplete  estimate."  Nineteen  years  later  Fechner 
published  his  great  work  on  psychophysics,  in  which  he 
showed  how  to  experiment  on  mental  processes  and 
measure  psychological  facts. 

Other  influences  had  been  tending  toward  the  develop- 
ment of  psychology,    and,    although   Fechner  was  the 


The  New  Psychology, 


287 


first  really  to  start  the  new  psychology,  he  is  only  the 
logical  outcome  of  the  progress  of  thought  in  other 
lines. 

Both  the  physicist  and  the  physiologist  frequently  come  influence  of 
to  problems  where  mental   life  is  involved.      Physicists  physioLgJ. 
still  amuse  themselves  by  the  so-called  optical  illusions 
and  the  beautiful  phenomena  of  contrast,  although  there 
is  not  a  particle  of  physics    in  any  way  connected  with 
the  subject.       Physi- 
ologists have   always 
been  forced   to    con- 
sider questions  of  sen- 
sation,   emotion,  and 
volition,    in  order  to 
draw    conclusions    in 
regard  to  bodily  proc- 
esses.     Many  names 
might  be   mentioned 
in  this  connection,  but 
one  is  of  special  impor- 
tance,   that   of  Ernst 
Heinrich   Weber. 
This      distinguished 
physiologist    and 
physicist  wrote  a  semi- 
psychological  treatise 

on  ''Sensations  of  Touch  and  the  Internal  Feelings," 
which  not  only  Induced  later  physiologists  to  continue 
the  work,  but  was  also  the  direct  stimulus  for  Fechner. 
This  influence  we  may  call  the  physiological  one  ;  it  has 
done  its  main  psychological  service  in  outlining  the  sen- 
sations in  a  qualitative  manner.  Fechner  may  be  con- 
sidered as  the  builder  of  psvchologv  representing  the 


Weber. 


Fig.  204.    Gustav  Theodor  Fechner. 


Thinkings   Feelings   Doing. 


Fechner. 


Helmholtz. 


final  passage  from  the  qualitative  to  the  quantitative. 
Fechner  (1801-1887)  was  the  founder  of  experimental 
psychology.  While  professor  of  physics  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Leipzig  he  invented  and  worked  out  the 
methods  which  we  have  used  in  finding  the  threshold 
(page  103,  etc.).  His  greatest  works  were,  "  Elemente 
der  Psychophysik' '  and  ' '  Revision  der  Hauptpunkte  der 
Psychophysik. "      So  much  of  Fechner  is   embodied  in 

all  our  psychological 
work  that  it  is  use- 
less to  attempt  more 
than  to  indicate  his 
main  services.  I 
will  sum  them  up  as  : 
(i)  the  invention  of 
new  methods  of 
measuring  the  in- 
tensity of  sensation ; 

(2)  the  introduction 
of  new  methods  of 
calculating    results  ; 

(3)  the  develop- 
ment of  laws  con- 
cerning the  relation 
of  intensities  of  sen- 
sations ;    (4)   the 

foundation  of  experimental  aesthetics  ;  and  (5)  numerous 
smaller  investigations  and  observations. 

A  greater  than  Fechner  was  to  come.      Mathematician, 
physicist,   physiologist,    psychologist,    and    technologist, 
Hermann  von  Helmholtz  has  given  to  the  psychology  of 
sight  and  hearing  the  best  his  sciences  had  to  give.     We 
cannot  claim  him  as  a  psychologist,  his  genius  was  too 


Fig.  205.     Hermann  von  Helmholtz. 


The  New  Psychology. 


289 


great  for  a  science  still  so  limited.      Nevertheless  there  are 
tew  to  whom  psychology  owes  more. 

W'e  must  turn  back  to  the  last  century  for  a  second 
current  of  thought  that  was  to  develop  psychology. 
This  time  it  was  an  astronomer  puzzled  by  mistakes  of 
his  own  method.  In  a  preceding  chapter  (page  40)  the 
story  has  been  told.  The  time  measurements  of  mental 
phenomena  were  afterwards  taken  up  and  developed  by 
Wundt,  in  w^hose  laboratory  they  are  still  continually 
pushed  further. 

Wilhelm  Wundt,  born  at  Neckerau  in  Baden  in  1832, 
was  a  student  of  medicine  at  Tiibingen,  Heidelberg,  and 
Berlin.  His  academical  career  began  with  a  place  as  in- 
structor in  physiol- 
ogy at  Heidelberg, 
where  in  1863  he 
published  his  "Lec- 
tures on  Human  and 
Animal  Psychol- 
ogy" (2d  edition 
1892).  In  1864  he 
was  made  assistant 
professor  of  physi- 
olog}^  In  1866  he 
published  "The 
Physical  Axioms 
and  their  Relations 
to  the  Principles  of 
Causality."  In  1874 
he  published  the 
"Outlines  of  Phys- 
iological Psychology"  (4th  edition  1893).  In  the  same 
year  he  was  called  to  Ziirich  as  professor  of  philosophy  ; 


Fig.  206.     Wilhelm  Wundt. 


Influence  of 
astronomy. 


Wundt. 


290 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Doing. 


Institute  at 
Leipzig. 


Influence  of 
anatomy. 


Anatomical 
speculation  in 
psychology. 


in  1875  to  Leipzig.  His  later  works  have  covered  most 
sections  of  philosophy  :  ''Logic"  (1880,  1883,  2d  edition 
1893),  "Essays"  (1885),  "Ethics"  (1886,  2d  edition 
1894),  "System  of  Philosophy"  (1891).  The  pro- 
ductions of  the  Institute  for  Experimental  Psychology  at 
Leipzig  are  published  in  his  "  Philosophical  Studies." 

The  institute  at  Leipzig  has  taken  up  not  only  the 
time  measurements  and  the  work  begun  by  Fechner,  but 
also  nearly  every  portion  of  psychology  accessible  to  ex- 
periment. I  think  it  can  be  said  that  there  are  only  two 
important  regions  of  psychology  which  have  not  received 
contributions  from  Leipzig,  namely,  power  and  work  in 
voluntary  action  (investigations  from  France  and  Italy) 
and  the  applications  of  psychological  principles  to  educa- 
tion (a  peculiarly  American  department).  When  we 
view  the  ten  solid  volumes  of  investigation  in  the  ' '  Phi- 
losophical Studies ' '  and  remember  that  the  men  who 
produced  them  were  simply  carrying  out  Wundt's 
thoughts,  we  must  admit  the  justness  of  the  recognition 
which  the  world  pays  to  Wundt  as  the  greatest  genius  in 
psychology  since  the  time  of  Aristotle. 

There  is  another  influence  on  the  development  of  psy- 
chology, which  we  might  call  the  anatomical.  Arising 
from  crude  materialism,  it  has  sought  to  parcel  out  men- 
tal life  among  different  portions  of  the  brain.  It  has 
produced  such  monstrosities  as  ' '  mental  physiology, ' ' 
"physiology  of  mind,"  etc.  It  speaks  of  the  different 
mental  faculties  as  seated  in  various  portions  of  the  sur- 
face of  the  brain. 

The  evil  this  movement  has  done  is  very  great.  It 
has  led  to  a  habit  of  wild  speculation  concerning 
"  memory  cells,"  "association  fibers,"  etc.  Concern- 
ing what  goes  on  in  the  brain  in  company  with  mental 


The  New  Psychology. 


291 


processes  we  know  nothing  more  than  general  outlines. 
Yet  writers  of  psychologies — especially  in  America — 
generally  disdain  to  speak  of  the  relations  of  mental 
processes  to  each  other.  They  first  turn  the  sensations 
into  ' '  molecular  movements  * '  (this  is  a  favorite  phrase 
because  its  meaning  is  so  deliciously  indefinite  and  its 
alliteration  so  sonorously  professorial)  ;  then  they  set 
complicated  processes  running  along  nerve  fibers  to  other 


Fig.  207.     Lecture-room  in  the  Yale  Laboratory. 


cells  ;    here   there  are  more   ' ' 
which    are    retranslated    into 
mental  process  would  be  very 
many   translations,    especially 
processes  are,  as  the  anatomist 
known  languages. 

As  would  be  expected,  it  is 
who  commits  this  fault.      He  is 


molecular  movements, ' ' 
mental  phenomena.  A 
likely  to  suffer  from  so 
when  the  intermediate 
will  tell  you,  utterly  un- 

not  the  brain  anatomist 
after  facts  concerning  the 


292 


Thijiking,   Feeling,   Doi7ig. 


structure  of  the  brain.  Experimental  psychology  can 
be  of  great  service  to  him,  especially  in  the  pathology  of 
mind,  where  brain  disease  is  accompanied  by  mental  dis- 
turbance or  mental  troubles  disastrously  affect  the  body. 
These  men  are  ardent  and  valuable  friends  of  our  science. 
Indeed,  the  subject  of  psychology  has  passed  through 
Three  stages  of   three   stagcs    of  metaphysical    speculation  :  the    doubly 

speculation.  .      .,,  .  .  . 

distilled  metaphysical  speculation  of  the  pre-Herbartian 


Psychology  and 
philosophy. 


Fig.  208.     Apparatus-room  and  Switchboard-hall  in  the  Yale  Laboratory. 

era,  the  mathematico-metaphysical  speculation  of  Her- 
bart  and  his  followers,  and  the  anatomico-metaphysical 
speculation  of  Carpenter,  Maudsley,  and  the  rest. 

And  what  about  philosophy,  the  science  of  sciences  ? 
Alas  !  philosophy  is  still  in  the  Middle  Ages.  One  by 
one  the  other  sciences  have  freed  themselves  ;  the  lin- 
gering clutch  of  philosophy  on  psychology  is  a  last  hope 


The  New  Psychology.  293 

of  respectability.  Metaphysics  of  the  worst  sort  still  goes 
begging  for  recognition  under  such  terms  as  ' '  rational 
psychology"  (as  though  the  psychology  of  fact  were 
irrational  ! ) ,  "  theoretical  psychology, "  * '  speculative 
psychology,"  etc.  Philosophy  in  modern  times  has 
contributed  nothing  but  stumbling-blocks  in  aid  of 
psychology. 

The  trouble  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  new  philosophy   psychology  has 
has  only  lately  appeared.     The  movement  by  which  a  "°th°5hf-'^^^°" 
science   of  philosophy"  is   to    be   based    on    the   special  ^"^°p^>'- 
sciences,   such  as  physics,   psychology,  and  the  rest,  is 
still  so  new  as  to  be  very  little  known  outside  of  Ger- 
many.    This  new  philosophy  has  no  more  and  no  less 
connection  wdth  psychology  than  with  physics,  mathe- 
matics,   and   astronomy.      Every   scientist,    every  man, 
must  be  more  or  less  of  a  philosopher  in  the  new  sense, 
and  philosophy  based  on  the  special  sciences  cannot  but 
be  a  help  in  every  way.     Such  a  philosophy  would  no 
more  think  of  claiming  a  right  to  meddle  in  psychology 
than  it  would  to  regulate  the  manufacture  of  lathes  in  a 
machine  shop. 

Having  arrived  at  the  present  day,  we  naturally  ask,    yig,^,  ^f  ^^e 
What  is  going  on  now?     In  Germany  the  number  of  p^^^^"*^- 
psychological  laboratories  is  not  large  and  the  amount  of 
capital  invested  is  small.      Yet,  it  must  be  confessed,  the  Germany, 
best  work  and  almost  all  the  good  work  in  psychology 
comes    from    the    German  psychological,   physical,   and 
physiological  laboratories.    The  causes  combining  to  this 
result  are  many  ;  the  main  one  is  hard,  honest,  accurate 
work. 

In  America  the  first  laboratory  was  founded  at  Johns   America. 
Hopkins  University  in   1883  by  G.  Stanley  Hall.     The 
work   done  was   excellent  and  full  of  promise,   but  the 


294 


Thinking,   Feeling,   Dohig. 


Yale. 


laboratory  was  allowed  to  pass  out  of  existence  upon  the 
departure  of  Professor  Hall.  At  the  present  moment, 
there  are  about  twenty  American  institutions  in  which 
attempts  are  made  at  laboratory  instruction. 

France  has  lately  established  a    laboratoiy.      Russia 


Fig.  209.     Workshop  in  the  Yale  Laboratory. 

has  a  laboratory  at  Moscow.  Up  to  the  date  of  my 
latest  information  no  laboratories  exist  in  Austria,  Italy, 
Spain,  British  Empire  (except  Canada),  or  elsewhere. 
The  Yale  laboratory  was  started  in  1892.  It  diifers 
from  the  German  laboratories  in  having  an  organized 
system  of  courses,  whereby  the  college  student  receives 
a  thorough  training.  It  diifers  from  most  American 
laboratories  in  its  extensive  provisions  for  accurate,  scien- 
tific researches  by  trained  investigators  of  special  sub- 
jects. 


The  New  Psychology.  295 

Laboratories  are  the  outward  signs  of  internal  forces   Forces  ot 

,     .        1         1       .  ,      ,  development. 

at  work  in  developing-  psychology. 

The  first  of  these  forces  is  the  conviction  in  the  mind  Power  of  the 
of  every  man  that  mere  observation  and  speculation  will 
not  serve  to  build  a  locomotive,  paint  a  picture,  run  a 
gas  factory,  or  teach  psychology.  Long,  long  years  of 
special  training  and  laborious  experimenting  must  first 
be  spent  in  the  workshop,  the  studio,  the  chemical  lab- 
oratory, or  the  psychological  laboratory.  To  do  any  of 
these  things  a  man  must  be  a  specialist.  As  long  as 
psychology  was  an  arm-chair  science,  anybody  could 
teach  it ;  to-day  no  one  but  a  carefully  trained  man  can 
do  so. 

A   second    great    force   is   the    recognition   that   all  Basis  of 
rational  and  effective  education  is  based  on  psychology 
■ — not   the   vague   and  verbose    "psychology"   of  ten, 
twenty,  or  forty  years  ago,  but  the  accurate,  up-to-date, 
practical  psychology  of  to-day. 


INDEX. 


Abnormal  attention,  loi. 

Absolute  white,  159. 

Accidents  due  to  color-blindness,  177. 

Accuracy  of  tone-judgment,  143. 

Act  and  will,  28,  33. 

Action,  28,  226. 

Addition,  time  of,  54. 

Additions,  unconscious,  17, 

Adjustable  fork,  139;  pitch-pipe,  141. 

Advertising,  93,  247. 

^sthesiometer,  no,  11 1. 

Esthetic  emotions,  234. 

Esthetics,  see  Feeling. 

Age,  effect  on  highest  tone,  136 ;  see 
School  children. 

Agreeable,  see  Like. 

Agreement,  237. 

Air,  illusion,  197. 

Air  transmission,  67. 

Alarm,  234. 

Alliteration,  249. 

Alphabet,  see  Letters. 

Alternation  of  odors,  127. 

Anatomy,  279,  290. 

Anger,  84,  88,  224,  229,  230. 

Angle,  illusion,  189. 

Animal  psychology,  18,  278. 

Animals,  smell,  127  ;  hearing,  137. 

Antipathy,  230. 

Ants,  18. 

Anxiety,  224,  228. 

Aristotle,  276,  285,  290. 

Aristotle's  illusion,  113. 

Arithmomania,  loi. 

Arm,  time  of  movement,  58;  steadi- 
ness of,  69. 

Arm-chair  psychology,  24. 


Association-time,  53. 

Astonishment,  99,  233. 

Astronomers'  discovery  of  reaction- 
time,  40,  272. 

Atmosphere,  illusion,  197. 

Attention,  89 ;  focus,  90  ;  instability,  91  ; 
extent,  91;  in  children,  92  ;  forcing, 
93  ;  in  advertising,  93  ;  law  of  big- 
ness, 93  ;  law  of  intensity,  94  ;  law 
of  feeling,  96  ;  law  of  expectation^ 
97 ;  law  of  change,  99  ;  diseases, 
loi  ;  fatigue,  loi  ;  hypnotism,  102; 
effect  on  mental  quickness,  99  ; 
effect  on  astronomical  records, 
272  ;  and  steadiness,  75. 

Attraction,  229. 

Audiometer,  see  Intensity  of  tones. 

Average  change,  240. 

Average  error,  81. 

Average  uncertainty,  241. 

Aversion,  229. 

Baton,  259. 

Beam-balances,  106. 

Beautiful,  214,  222. 

Beauty  and  bigness,  96. 

Bigness  for  attention,  93. 

Bile,  224. 

Binaural,  see  Ears. 

Binocular  contrast,  212. 

Binocular  luster,  212. 

Binocular  relief,  205. 

Binocular  strife,  210. 

Binocular  vision,  199. 

Black,  156,  159. 

Blind,  threshold  of  space,  in. 

Blind-spot,  183. 

Blocks  for  suggestion,  267. 

Blue, 162. 


Art's  colors,  218. 
Association,  in  illusion,  197  ;    in   emo-    Boiling  a  frog,  121. 
tion,  232  ;  in  memory,  250.  Book  stereoscope,  202 

297 


298 


Index. 


Boxer,  59. 

Boys  and  girls  compared,  see  School 
children. 

Brain,  see  Anatomy. 

Burning-point  of  attention,  90. 

Capsules,  68,  76,  253. 

Care,  224,  228. 

Carpenter,  292. 

Chagrin,  230. 

Chain-reaction,  38,  52, 

Change  and  attention,  99. 

Change,  least  noticeable,  106,  120, 
143 ;  average,  240. 

Charm,  229. 

Cheerfulness,  228. 

Chemistry  of  mind,  279. 

Children,  extent  of  attention,  92  ;  skin- 
space,  112  ;  field  of  vision,  182  ;  see 
School  children. 

Choice-time,  51. 

Chronometer,  256. 

Civilization,  influence  on  time  of 
thought,  62. 

Clairvoyant  healing,  26. 

Clock-work  drum,  68. 

Coil,  31,  51,  55,  146,  256. 

Cold,  reaction  to,  47. 

Cold  spots,  117. 

Color,  153. 

Color-blindness,  173,  1S2. 

Color-cone,  157. 

Color-disk,  155. 

Color  equation,  164,  173. 

Color  feelings,  217. 

Color-names,  162,  163. 

Color  perimetry,  182. 

Color,  recognition-time,  149  ;  influence 
on  power,  88  ;  feeling,  217  ;  emo- 
tion, 231. 

Color  sensitiveness,  170. 

Color  system,  156. 

Color-top,  153,  157,  163,  170,  173. 

Color-triangle,  166. 

Color-weakness,  176. 

Color-wheel,  154. 

Colored  grays,  160. 

Colors,  fundamental,  165. 

Combination  of  colors,  163,  167,  218. 

Combination  of  paints,  167. 


Compass,  no. 

Comte,  286. 

Concentration  of  thought,  loi. 

Cone  of  colors,  157. 

Consternation,  234. 

Contentment,  230. 

Contradiction,  237. 

Contrast,  171,  212. 

Control,  67. 

Courage,  224. 

Cross-education,  75,  83,  112. 

Cross-memory,  242. 

Crossed  disparity,  205. 

Crushing  a  frog,  107. 

Curiosity,  98,  99. 

Dalton,  179. 

Deafness,  147. 

Defective  action,   33  ;    execution,   71  ; 

attention,  loi ;  smell,  128  ;  hearing, 

135 ;  color  sense,  172. 
Dejection,  228. 
Delicacy  of  touch,  h.earing,  etc.,  see 

Threshold. 
Depression,  225,  228. 
Descartes,  277. 
Diagram  of  colors,  157. 
Difference,  least  noticeable,  108,   139, 

170. 
Direct  memory,  243. 
Disagreeable,  see  Dislike. 
Disappointment,  224,  232. 
Discontentedness,  230. 
Discrimination-time,   50 ;   in   children, 

60. 
Disks  for  colors,  154  ;  for  contrast,  172; 

see  also  Color-top. 
Dislike,  96,  214. 
Disparity,  205. 
Dissatisfaction,  230. 
Distinct  vision,  180. 
Distraction,  influence  on  tapping,  35; 

avoidance  of,  41  ;  in  isolated  room, 

42. 
Dividers,  no. 
Dog,  time  of  thought,  60. 
Double  consciousness,  265,  283. 
Double  images,  204. 
Doubt,  237. 
Drawing  a  straight  line,  71. 


Index. 


299 


Drawing-dividers,  no. 

Drum,  smoked   recording,  29,  43,   68, 

224,  253. 
Drum-stick,  259. 
Dumb-bell  exercises,  262. 
Duration,  notation  for,  148,  151. 
Dynamograph,  86. 
Dynamometer,  79. 
Ears,  two,  152. 
Education  of  rapidity,  22,  63,  65 ;    of 

steadiness,  74  ;  "  cross,"  75,  83  ;  of 

attention,  76  ;  of  power,  82  ;  of  skin, 

III  ;  of  memory,  247. 
Effort,  236. 
Eiffel  tower,  96. 
Electric  baton,  259. 
Electric  drum-stick,  259. 
Electric  shoe,  255. 
Emotion,  226 ;  as  a  source  of  illusion, 

19S. 
English  psychology,  2S4. 
Enjo>Tnent,  236. 
Equation,  personal,  40,  272  ;  of  colors, 

163,  173- 

Error,  16. 

Error  in  proof-reading,  17. 

Error  of  prejudice,  16. 

Error  of  the  senses,  21. 

Error  of  unconscious  additions,  17. 

Errors  in  animal  psychology,  18,  19, 
20. 

Errors  in  memory,  statistics,  245. 

Ethical  emotions,  234. 

Exasperation,  230. 

Excitation,  225,  227. 

Exercises  in  observing,  21,  22. 

Expectation,  232,  272. 

Expectation  and  attention,  97 ;  and 
emotion,  232  ;  and  suggestion,  272. 

Experiment,  its  advent,  24,  25  ;  its 
law,  25 ;  grades,  25,  26  ;  quack  ex- 
periments, 26,  265;  need  of,  28. 

Expression,  270. 

Extent  of  attention,  91. 

Eye  and  ear  method,  272. 

Eyes,  15. 

Facility,  236. 

Faculty-psychology,  285. 

Failure,  237. 


Faith-cure,  26. 

Faraday's  confession,  16. 

Fastest  tapping,  34 ;  telegraphing,  65. 

Fatigue,  34,37;  of  attention,   loi  ;  of 

smell,  126. 
Fear,  233. 
Fechner,  286,  288. 
Fechner's  law,  see  Weber's  law. 
Feeling,  214  ;  and  emotion,  226. 
Feeling  used  for  attracting  attention, 

96. 
Fencing,  55. 
Ferris  wheel,  96. 
Feuerbach,  281. 
Field  of  attention,  90. 
Field  of  vision,  180. 
Finger  illusion,  113. 
Finger,  record  of  movement,  31. 
Fixed  ideas,  loi. 
Flag-foil,  55. 

Flavors  due  to  smell,  128. 
Flower  spectrum,  162. 
Fluctuating  pressure,  105. 
Focus  of  attention,  90. 
Foil,  55. 
Foot-key,  255. 
Forced  association,  54. 
Fork,    electric,   28,    43,   146 ;    mirror, 

76 ;    for   tickle,    104 ;    giant,    134 ; 

small,  135  ;  adjustable,  139  ;  for  least 

noticeable     difference,     140 ;      for 

agreeable  tones,   223. 
Fork  record,  29,  104. 
Form,  115  ;  of  tone,   150  ;  and  feeling, 

220. 
Free  association,  53. 
Fright,  234. 
Frog,  107,  121. 

Fundamental  colors,  165,  169. 
Fundamental  fact  of  binocular  vision, 

199. 
Fundamental  law  of  obser\'ation,  15. 
Fundamental  pigments,  169. 
Galilei,  25. 
Galton,  137. 
Galton's  whistle,  135. 
Game  of  twenty  questions,  17. 
Games,  57,  82. 
Gas-capsule,  76. 


300 


Index. 


Gauge  for  steadiness,  74. 

Geissler  tubes,  51. 

German  psychology,  284. 

German  type,  50. 

Gesture,  270. 

Giotto's  tower,  96. 

Gloom,  228. 

Gram,  80. 

Graphic  chronometer,  256. 

Graphic  method,  28,  29,  30,  43,  68,  86, 

253- 

Graphic  record,  29,  69,  87,  88,  254,  256. 

Grasp,  80,  86. 

Grating,  160. 

Gray,  159,  165,  217. 

Green,  162. 

Green-blindness,  174. 

Grip  of  pencil,  steadiness,  73. 

Guido  Aretino,  148. 

Gun,  steadiness  in  holding,  69. 

Hair-lines,  272. 

Hall,  G.  Stanley,  293. 

Hallucination,  266. 

Hamilton,  276,  282,  284. 

Hand-capsule,  70. 

Hand,  steadiness  of,  70. 

Happiness,  230. 

Hearing,  133. 

Heart,  224,  227. 

Hegel,  276,  281. 

Helmholtz,  154,  162,  288. 

Herbart,  94,  278,  284. 

Hering,  154. 

High  pitch,  133. 

Highest  tone,  135;  dependent  on  in- 
tensity, 138. 

Hilarity,  228. 

Holmgren,  175. 

Hope,  233. 

Hot,  reaction  to,  47 ;  hot  and  cold, 
116. 

Hot  spots,  1x7. 

Huber,  20. 

Hue,  156. 

Hume,  285. 

Hundredths  of  a  second,  sign  for,  30. 

Hunger,  215. 

Hypnotism,  26,  102,  265. 

Idea,  men  of  one,  loi  ;  fixed,  loi. 


Illusion,  Aristotle's  or  finger,  113  ;  lip, 
113;  tooth,  114;  interrupted  space 
on  skin,  114;  optical,  187;  moon 
illusion,  196. 

Inaccuracy,  index  of,  258. 

Index  of  inaccuracy,  258. 

Index  of  irregularity,  258. 

Indifference,  214,  230. 

Indistinct  vision,  180. 

Infinity  of  colors,  157,  165. 

Inhibitory,  227. 

Intellectual  emotion,  234. 

Intensification  of  tastes,  130. 

Intensity,  influence  on  reaction-time, 
47,  48  ;  law,  in  attention,  94 ;  de- 
pendent on  quantity,  130 ;  influ- 
ence on  highest  tone,  138  ;  of  tones, 
146 ;  of  action,  see  Power ;  least 
noticeable,  see  Threshold. 

Interest,  94. 

Internal  sensations,  223. 

Interrupted  space,  illusion,  114,  188. 

Irregularity,  index  of,  258. 

Isolated  room,  41. 

Jan  de  Meurs,  148. 

Joy,  88,  225,  228. 

Judgment,  55;  of  space,  152;  see  also 
Least  noticeable  difference.  Least 
noticeable  change. 

Just  noticeable,  see  Least  noticeable. 

Just  perceptible,  see  Least  noticeable. 

Kant,  284. 

Key,  telegraph,  31,  43;  reaction,  43; 
multiple,  43  ;  pistol,  45  ;  runner's, 
45  ;  touch,  46  ;  five-knobbed,  51  ; 
voice,  53 ;  foot,  255 ;  orchestra 
leader's,  259. 

Kindergarten,  76,  154. 

Knowledge,  method  of  acquiring,  15  ; 
thresholds  of,  125. 

Laboratories,  290,  293. 

Lamp  and  spoon,  120. 

Language,  rapidity  in,  64;  in  the 
printery,  65. 

Lantern  test,  176. 

Latin,  rapidity  in  translating,  64. 

Latin  type,  50. 

Law,  of  observation,  15  ;  of  attention, 
93  ;    of  change,     108 ;    of  beauty, 


Index. 


301 


220  :  of  memory,  241,  242,  244,  245; 
of  obliteration,  251. 

Least  noticeable  change,  106,  120,  143. 

Least  noticeable  difference,  loS ;  in 
pressure,  108 ;  in  pitch,  139 ;  \\\ 
color,  170. 

Least  noticeable  sensation ,  see  Thresh- 
old. 

Least  noticeable  weight,  103. 

Least  perceptible,  see  Least  notice- 
able. 

Leipzig,  290. 

Letters,  recognition-time,  49,  50 ;  for 
colors,  156. 

Light,  reaction  to,  48. 

Like  and  dislike,  96,  214. 

Lip  illusion,  113. 

Liver,  225. 

Localization,  224. 

Location  of  sounds,  152. 

Locke,  2S2,  2S5. 

Logical  emotions,  235. 

Logical  judgment,  55. 

Loss  of  smell,  128. 

Love,  224. 

Low  pitch,  133. 

Lowest  tone,  134. 

Lubbock,  20. 

Luster,  212. 

Lysikrates,  96. 

Magician's  training,  22,  23. 

Magnesium  oxide,  159. 

Map  of  hot  and  cold  spots,  117. 

Mariotte,  1S3. 

Marker,  see  Time-marker. 

Marking  time,  255. 

Matching  colors,  163. 

Materialism,  276,  2S0. 

Mathematics  in  psychology,  285. 

Maudsley,  292. 

Maxwell,  154,  163. 

Measurement  of  time,  28. 

Melancholy,  228. 

Memon.-,  25,  239;  "  cross,"  242. 

Memory  and  emotion,  231. 

Men  of  one  idea,  loi. 

Mental  activity,  influence  on  tapping, 

35- 
Mental  physiology-,  2S0. 


Mental-time,  see  Reaction-time,  Think- 
ing-time. 

Metaphysical  mania,  loi. 

Middle  tone,  145. 

Military  drill,  99,  255. 

Milton,  212. 

Mind,  science  of,  27;  chemistry  of, 
279. 

Mirror-tuning-fork,  76. 

Mnemonics,  247. 

Moods,  227,  230. 

Moon  illusion,  196. 

Mortification,  230. 

Mouth-key,  see  Voice-key. 

Movement,  steadiness  of,  71  ;  memory 
for,  240  ;  suggestion,  270. 

Mozart,  245. 

Multiple  key,  43. 

Multiplication-time,  54. 

Muscle  sense,  Si. 

Muscles,  influenced  by  feeling  and 
emotion,  225,  227. 

Muscular  activity,  215. 

Muscular  time,  55,  58. 

Music,  error  in  simultaneity,  32  ;  influ- 
ence on  power,  85  ;  notation  for, 
ISO- 
Musical  scale,  134. 

Musk,  88. 

Names  for  odors,  123  ;  for  tastes,  127. 

Nature,  brightest  colors  in,  160. 

Nature's  colors,  218. 

Nature's  spectrum,  161. 

New  Haven  measurements,  see  School 
children. 

New  psychology',  282. 

Newton,  163. 

No-Eyes,  15. 

Noise,  reaction  to,  44 ;  influence  on 
power,  87  ;  and  tone,  133. 

Nose  illusion,  113. 

Notation,  for  pitch  and  duration,  148  ; 
for  intensity,  150. 

Obliteration,  law  of  in  memory,  251. 

Observation,  15  ;  contrasted  with  ex- 
periment, 25,  283;  fundamental 
law  of,  15. 

Odors,  groups  of,  124;  alternation  of, 
127. 


302 


Index. 


Olfactometer,  124. 

One-color  persons,  175. 

Orange,  i6r. 

Orchestra  leader,  259. 

Paints,  see  Pigments. 

Paradise  Lost,  212. 

Parallel  lines,  illusion,  190. 

Passage  of  star,  272. 

Passions,  227. 

Pencil  experiments  on  grip,  73. 

Perfumes,  124. 

Perimeter,  181. 

Personal  equation,  40,  272. 

Personal  pride,  97. 

Philosophy,  292. 

Physical  exercise,  84. 

Physical  experiments,  26. 

Physics  of  light,  153,  282. 

Physiology  of  mind,  279,  290. 

Piano-player,  simultaneity  in,  31. 

Piano-playing,  31,  261. 

Pigments,  157,  164,  167  ;  fundamental^ 
169. 

Pilot,  176. 

Pistol-key,  45. 

Pitch,  133 ;  range  of,  134  ;  notation, 
148  ;  influence  on  power,  186. 

Pitch-pipe,  141. 

Plato,  276. 

Plato  on  Greek  music,  85. 

Pneumatic  shoe,  253. 

Point  of  regard,  180,  185. 

Pound  of  lead  and  pound  of  feathers, 
269. 

Power,  79  ;  accuracy,  80  ;  greatest,  83  ; 
dependence  on  mental  condition, 
83;  relation  to  physical  exercise, 
84 ;  influence  of  music,  85  ;  influ- 
ence of  pitch,  86 ;  influence  of 
noises,  87  ;  influence  of  colors,  87  ; 
influences  of  smell,  88;  memory 
for,  242. 

Practice,  influence  on  steadiness,  73  ; 
on  power,  83. 

Prejudice,  76. 

Pressure  and  temperature,  121. 

Pride,  personal,  97. 

Prism,  161. 

Prism  stereoscope,  201. 


Prismatic  spectrum,  161. 

Proof-reading,  error  in,  17. 

Proportionality  of  differences,  no. 

Psychical  research,  26. 

Psychology,  276,  282. 

Pugilist,  59. 

Pulse,  223,  224,  225. 

Pun,  248. 

Puzzle,  98,  249.' 

Quakers,  color-blindness,  178. 

Qualitative  experiments,  25. 

Qualitative  sciences,  41. 

Quantitative  experiments,  26. 

Quick  observation,  22,  23. 

Rage,  230. 

Railroads  and  color-blindness,  176. 

Rainbow  colors,  161,  169  ,217. 

Raleigh,  error  of  the  senses,  21. 

Rapidity,  in  observation,  23;  in 
thought  and  action,  62,  63 ;  in 
emotion,  235. 

Rate  of  change,  107,  120,  143. 

Reaction  in  racing,  45. 

Reaction-key,  43. 

Reaction- room,  41. 

Reaction-time,  38,  99. 

Reaction  to  sound,  44  ;  to  touch,  46  ; 
to  cold,  47  ;  to  hot,  47  ;  to  light, 
48 ;  dependence  on  age,  48  ;  pho- 
tographer's application,  48. 

Reading,  50,  64  ;  blind-spot,  185. 

Recognition,  threshold  of,  126. 

Recognition-time,  49. 

Recording  drum,  see  Drum. 

Rectangle,  222. 

Red,  161. 

Red-blindness,  174, 182. 

Regard,  point  of,  180,  185. 

Reid,  285. 

Relief,  205. 

Religious  emotions,  234. 

Repugnance,  230. 

Repulsion,  229. 

Revised  materialism,  280. 

Rhyme,  248. 

Rhythm,  233,  256. 

Rhythmic  action,  253. 

Ridiculousness,  248. 

Robert-Houdin,  22,264. 


Index. 


303 


Room,  isolated,  41  ;  reaction,  41. 
Roughness,  114. 
Runner's  key,  45. 
Runner's  reaction-time,  45. 
Runner's  suggestion,  271. 

Satisfaction,  232. 

Scale  in  music,  134. 

Schelling,  284. 

School  children,  tapping,  36  ;  fatigue, 
36  ;  reaction-time,  48  ;  time  of  dis- 
crimination and  choice,  61  ;  muscle 
sense,  81 ;  hearing  of,  142  ;  color 
sensitiveness,  171  ;  suggestion,  267. 

Science  and  curiosity,  98. 

Science's  colors,  218. 

Scientific  pursuits,  influence  on  quick- 
ness, 58. 

Seeing  color,  153  ;  with  one  eye,  180  ; 
with  two  eyes,  199. 

Sensation,  threshold  of,  125. 

Sex,  see  School  children. 

Shade,  156. 

Shadows,  illusion,  198. 

Shape  of  the  sky,  196. 

Shoe,  253,  255. 

Sight,  discrimination-time,  51. 

Sigma,  30. 

Simultaneous  acts,  31. 

Singing,  accuracy  of,  76  ;  intervals,  78. 

Size  and  distance,  195 ;  and  sugges- 
tion, 266. 

Skin-space,  no,  112. 

Sky,  shape  of,  196. 

Smell,  123. 

Smell,  influence  on  power,  88. 

Smell-measurer,  124. 

Smeller,  124. 

Smoked  drum,  see  Drum. 

Smoothness,  114. 

Snapper  sounder,  152. 

Sorrow,  225,  227. 

Sorting  colors,  155. 

Sound,  reaction  to,  44  ;  see  Hearing. 

Sounder,  snapper,  152. 

Space,  touch,  no;  auditory,  152; 
visual,  180,  185, 186. 

Span  and  suggestion,  269. 

Spark-coil,  31,  51-  55-  256. 

Spectral-curve,  166. 


Spectrum,  160;  of  flowers,  162. 

Spectrum  colors,  161,  216,  218. 

Spectrum  grating,  160. 

Spectrum  lines,  162. 

Speculation,  281,  283,  284,  2S5,  290. 

Spiritualism,  276. 

Sportsman,  steadiness  of,  69. 

Spot,  hot,  cold,  117  ;  blind,  183. 

Spring-scale  dynamometer,  79. 

Squeeze,  80,  86. 

Standard  white,  159. 

Standards  of  color,  161. 

Standing,  steadiness  in,  70. 

Star,  passage  of,  40,  272. 

Statistics  and  measurement,  41. 

Statistics  on  memory,  245. 

Steadiness,  67;  of  the  arm,  68;  of  a 
sportsman,  69;  in  standing,  70;  of 
the  hand,  70 ;  of  the  tongue,  70 ; 
relation  to  will,  71 ;  in  movements, 
71 ;  in  drawing,  71  ,-  influence  of 
practice,  73  ;  gauge  for,  74  ;  educa- 
tion of,  75  ;  cross-education,  75  ;  in 
singing,  76;  of  point  of  regard,  180. 

Steamship,  177. 

Stereoscope,  201. 

Stop-watch,  38,  256. 

Straight  line,  drawing,  71. 

Strength  and  will,  84. 

Strife,  binocular,  210. 

Strongest  possible  effort,  82  ;  depend- 
ence on  mental  condition,  effect  of 
practice,  83. 

Success,  237. 

Suggestibility,  271. 

Suggestion,  loi,  264. 

Suggestion  blocks,  266. 

Surprise,  99,  233. 

Symmetrical  memory,  242. 

Symmetry,  220. 

System  of  colors,  156;  ofpsychology,276. 

Tapping,  34;  fatigue  in,  34;  influence 
of  mental  activity,  35 ;  influence 
of  time,  35;  influence  of  age,  36; 
produces  sensations  of  hot  and 
cold,  119. 

Taste,  127;  and  touch,  131,  216;  and 
temperature,  132,  216  ;  and  feeling, 

2T6. 


304 


Index. 


Tear-glands,  225. 

Tedium,  236. 

Telegraph  key,  31. 

Telegrapher,  rapidity  of,  65. 

Telephone,  43,  53,  146. 

Telescope,  40,  272. 

Temperature,  see  Hot,  Cold. 

Temperature  and  pressure,  121 ;  and 
taste,  216. 

Terror,  224,  234. 

Tests,  25. 

Thinking-time,  49  ;  decreased  by  civi- 
lization, 62. 

Thirst,  215. 

Thought,  time  of,  49;    emotion,   226, 

235- 

Thought-transference,  26. 

Three-color  persons,  173. 

Threshold,  103,  124,  125,  127,  129,  130, 
146,  147;  of  space,  no. 

Threshold  of  change,  see  Least 
noticeable  change. 

Threshold  of  difference,  see  Least 
noticeable  difference. 

Tickle,  104. 

Time  and  action,  27. 

Time-marker,  28. 

Time-memory,  251,  263.  , 

Time  of  action,  28. 

Time  of  day,  influence  on  tapping,  35. 

Time  of  reaction,  see  Reaction-time. 

Time  of  thought,  see  Thinking-time. 

Time  of  will,  28. 

Time,  value  of,  61. 

Tint,  156. 

Tobacco,  88. 

Tone,  reaction  to,  44 ;  accuracy  in 
singing,  76  ;  and  noise,  133  ;  nota- 
tion, 136,  150  ;  judgment,  143. 

Tones,  133  ;  low^est,  134  ;  highest,  135  ; 
feeling,  223  ;  memory  for,  244. 

Tones,  discrimination-time,  51. 

Tone-tester,  141. 

Tongue,  steadiness  of,  70. 

Tongue-capsule,  70. 

Tooth,  estimate  of  space,  114. 

Top,  for  colors,  154. 

Touch,  103 ;  and  temperature,  121  ; 
and  taste,  131,  216. 


Touch-key,  46. 

Touch-weights,  103. 

Translation,  time  of,  54. 

Tuning-fork,  see  Fork. 

Twenty  questions,  17. 

Two-color  persons,  174. 

Type,  50. 

Ugly,  214,  222. 

Ulysses,  80. 

Uncertainty,  average,  241. 

Unconscious  additions,  17. 

Uncrossed  disparity,  205. 

Uneasiness,  234. 

Untrustworthiness  of  the  senses,  21. 

Violet,  162. 

Vision,    distinct   and  indistinct,   180  ; 

field  of,  180 ;  binocular,  199. 
Voice-key,  53. 
Voluntary,  see  Will. 
Walking,  253. 

Warmth,  hallucination  of,  266. 
Watch,  38,  52,  147. 
Watching,  232  ;  see  Observation. 
Wavy  pressure,  105. 
Weariness,  230. 
Weber,  287. 
Weber's  compass,  in. 
Weber's  law,  109. 
Weights,  81, 103,  108. 
Wheel,  for  colors,  154. 
Whistle,  for  highest  tone,  135. 
White,  159,  216. 
Will,    and  time   of    action,    28;    and 

steadiness,    71  ;    and    power,    79 ; 

cannot  be  physically  measured,  81; 

and  strength,  84. 
Wolff,  284. 

Women  as  observers,  23. 
Wonder,  99,  233. 
Words,  recognition-time,  49. 
World,   seen  with  one  eye,  180  ;  with 

two  eyes,   199 ;  in  three   different 

ways,  199. 
Worsted  test,  175. 
Writing,  241. 
Wundt,  18,  226,  276,  289. 
Yale,  55,  294. 
Yellow,  161. 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 

This  book  is  due  on  the  date  indicated  below,  or  at  the 
expiration  of  a  definite  period  after  the  date  of  borrowing-, 
as  provided  by  the  rules  of  the  Library  or  by  special  ar- 
rangement with  the  Librarian  in  charge. 

DATE  BORROWED 

DATE  DUE 

DATE  BORROWED 

DATE   DUE 

C2a(1  140)  Ml  00 

Sor72 


